Sleep Talking

Who spoke?
A pidgeon clatters from a roof,
the clouds crowd with faces.
I think I am becoming confused.
When the wind roared low,
I heard, thought I heard
a voice mumbling something.
Everything is growing old.
My arms are getting frail.
Every night a ragged man
falls asleep at my feet,
and when the sun comes up
he crawls off away again.
Can hear birds somewhere.
Stop that disgusting noise!
The air here is so stale,
and I am dying stupidly.
Nothing to say about it.
There is only concrete,
and the foul air, and rain.
I wake up covered in piss,
I don't know whose at all.
Its all completely absurd.
Who spoke? Someone out there
is speaking to me, I swear.
I am going deaf anyway.
A face floats by on a cloud.
I imagine the face of my mother.
Who spoke? Oh damn them,
what's the use,
                             moaned the tree,
and shrank into the ground.