a man stands stern as 86,400 condolences
in front of a Grandfather Clock.
he resembles Lloyd the Barber from:
"The Shining"--except for mustachio &
monocle, a leather whip in his right hand.
dressed up to the nines for his
sadomasochistic relationship with time.
the pent-up tension of its purposeful
waste, excited him to no end with its
insightful extravagances.
the heightened state of foregoing all
possibility, rides the penultimate crack of
a whip.
oceanically wrought drops of milk &
honey--pelvic ache in-between no two
points.
the adrenaline dump of worlding an
infinitely broken silence--over & over &
over.
surviving deferments of dust in an edenic matchbox, quavering to hear--holy make the round of holies.
until sweat shines his shoes & the whip's
floored by undulance.
as his fire belly newt: Gozer, singles out from a camouflaged environ to be fed.