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Brett Berger
Poems
Apr 2012
intergalactic mindfuck via laser guided robot beams
Tick
The days pass, without my consent it seems, but the hours themselves tick by only slowly enough to make you aware of their existence
Just slow enough to check the clock twice in one minute- a little too quick to remember the time you just checked twice.
With every blink of an eye, a billion seconds pass. And every second brings with it the minutes that drag endlessly into semi-existence.
The void in which numbers are crunched into value, and value placed on the non-existent merely because we are able.
Tock
Written by
Brett Berger
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