"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, Wayne's World
Pass this
night un-
********
wingnuts.
Opened
casing
showing
my guts.
Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
of these small hands.
I've unlocked my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down. I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
so late.
Time's up.
Trickling
out of
habits
Gutter
nights are
washing
ashes
Into
Yawning
Faces
filled up
with questions
falling
from the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.
I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
Discard a month.
They've opened the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces, blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.
It's so late.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, Wayne's World
Pass this
night un-
********
wingnuts.
Opened
casing
showing
my guts.
Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
of these small hands.
I've unlocked my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down. I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
so late.
Time's up.
Trickling
out of
habits
Gutter
nights are
washing
ashes
Into
Yawning
Faces
filled up
with questions
falling
from the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.
I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
Discard a month.
They've opened the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces, blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.
It's so late.
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