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Sam Jones Dec 2014
They left the gear behind
Art extracted from the wall
Beauty replaced by wreckage

Goal.
Better, cheaper, faster
Supersize that meal
Minimize the standing

Next whistle.
Who violated the infraction
Opened the door and stared into darkness.

Avoid all signs of humanity.
Misguided focus limits potential
Evolution carries
Idea’s reincarnated

Real estate in your cranium
Captured with pencil and paper
Juicy secondary ideas
Endless amounts of protein

Multicolored index cards
Wilderness of imagination
Sam Jones Dec 2014
I sit here on this park bench
Watching the world
Yet again the rain falls
Breaking against my skin
Flaunting its flexibility
The ability to break apart as it lands
Having no remorse for what it’s lost
Driving me crazy over and over

Unable to take this
Retreating from the shrapnel
Finding comfort found between four walls
Stripping away wet clothes
Warming of the stove

The dripping persists
Following me
Nowhere is sacred
Not even in these four walls

As the small drop
Strikes against the bottom of the sink
I hear it every time it falls
Never missing a beat
Growing into screams

Filling my body
Drip, Drip, Drip
I shudder every time
Unable to take it much longer

Who led me to this torture?
How can you repeat such an annoying act
Must you do the same thing time after time!
Why can’t you just take a break?
How about you find something new to do.
I guess you like the same old boring pattern

Drip, Drip, Drip
I hate you.

— The End —