this doldrums,

it mediates between being something decent, a memory that holds leftover leaves
a sicly stomach for other purpose than than to remind the skeleto, or the bony crawler.. that midnight is approaching and it is the hour to find the next shadowy reserve

this doldrums is where I simply lay in the telephone machine, since it is ticking anyway and I don't see the use in following the clock, or the bunny rabbit, or the heart, or what have- you

painfully contented and jaded, is my cigarette thin enough yet?

my wrist watch has stopped ticking, too

and I wear it anway

on classy dinner dates