every morning
you open your eyes
stare at the ceiling
look for the light
slowly roll over
step out of the bed
your feet on the floor
freezing concrete
stumble to the kitchen
grab with cold hands
the first cup of coffee
your miracle for today
sit down by the window
silently drink
think of nothing today
think of nothing today

get dressed by a ritual
get dressed in a heartbeat
nudity isn\'t accepted
and nudity is cold
pick up random clothes
from the bedroom floor

wear layers of them
wear layers of them

and hide behind them
hide behind them


every morning
get out of the house
where the sunshine is sullen
and summer is dull
eye-contacts aren\'t allowed
so you stare at your toes

think invisible
think untouchable

every morning
it\'s all the same
you wake up again
and there\'s still a brick in your head


it\'s not a poem
it\'s not a rhyme
it\'s just another way of killing time  
1988 - ...

Ljóð eftir Pykil

á milli svefns og vöku
bæn fyrir börnin
taktmælir tímans
sárustu tárin
litli prinsinn
ísland í bítið