(no subject)
10/11/06
Rude awakening went the clock,
loud buzzing pulse like electric bullets
inbetween air pockets weighed low
with hair grease
and
a laundry dirt speckled carpet.
Today and yesturday
will equally not start without me,
and so
the pulled covers concieve yet another
series of foreboding hours
to construct an ultimate defense;
an autopilot
so the days
merely strain sheets
rather than
break
beds
with the moving shadow dances the sun throws down
on
everything.
A defense, yes,
but
not really,
and I know this,
and even still
the sheets shoulder me to bed
where a half hour reprieve plays pretty violin music
to pretty images
that must simply not exist.
A reprieve,
a gap,
a shortcut
to another electric bullet storm
when I will wrench at the mechanism some more
before a
"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK"
is heard in the air currents
detered by unwilling hands uncovered finally.
And now
I simply don't want to be anywhere at all.