Date

I'm grinding my heel into the final dry patch of sawdust,
swinging back on the brass.
The only thing I relish is crossing over.
I make the quiz machine calibrate me,
I can refer back to the pattern of the demo sequence,
knowing how the flashes would have been. 
Having crossed, 
I have given in to what I imagine your room will be,
where my socks will be,
where my breakfast will be,
when my shower will be.