We wake in the morning, or at noon, or the witching hour, rising, sick, or sleepy, or hurried. We make our preparations and take our medications, black coffee, nicotine, whiskey rocks, what have you, running and walking dogs, herding children and scooping after cats. There is no tomorrow, only this synthetic ‘morning’, whatever hour it […]
Tag: clock-world
entwine well moon (v4)
disassemble your partswhat are you in there?The Jenga tower of nervy pieceschain reaction machineThe phonemes bind togetherwith fitful flowing notionsas keening winds of chatterWith no more time permitted -unscrew the hunger- and get No answer-just the ringing empty- ascending skyward, vinesentwining ‘round the moonagainst the cold of nothingShining, gazing downhurling unsought solaceThere is no promise […]
The Dealer of the Cards and the Windows Between Us
While the both of us and the rest were all locked up, ‘freedom’ spoke its little voice, how we had all been wasting her for years and years beyond years. While the people were not of a mind to travel before, yet locked up travel called to them when they were trapped.
Disorderly [conduct] Tiles
The thing you never notice The tiles on the floor They run in checkered patterns & line borders Maintain the veneer of the clock-world Whitish speckle, perfect level, hard concrete for your toes Until one day, you’ve noticed someone took a special touch Made it more inviting, disordered your morning rush
Amazon Fulfillment Center
A slight jamming of the machines Huff turn thrust push turn Pick up push turn huff thrust push Push push turn push push A sin to relate this I am no public representative A slight return and the induct job Pickup scan turn drop repeat Turn walk Pickup scan turn drop repeat 1000 an hour […]
entwine well moon
disassemble your parts what are you in there the jenga tower of nervy pieces chain reaction machine partly flow the spores the drifting wind of tone there is no time in place unscrew the hunger No answer. Just the ringing empty of the thanatoic sandworms piling on the sweaters against the cold of nothing there […]
Lost in Mist 