Setting Back The Clocks

I don’t want to do it. I weary of man made holographs. Images that aren’t really there. Like the past. Screw it. A parlor game. An interesting talking point, but nothing worth going back to live again and even if I could the message remains the same. The new time out ahead is far more…

Leaves

A handful she picked off the ground. Burnished autumn crinkly and brown. “Leaves,” she cried ecstatically. “Look, leaves,” to her mother. Her father. Any one who’d care. She wanted the world to care, she cared so much. “Leaves,” as though she knew all about gold. I know about everything and I don’t care. All I…

Terminal Velocity

If I had only known how long it would take to fall in love with you I would not have waited. I would have fallen straight away and fallen thrillingly without wanting to open the chute yet knowing if I did not it would all come to a sudden end. So I declare to you…

Liberation

If I were a prisoner in a cell for crimes I committed or innocent of all charges and if the keys to the door were there inside with me on my side of the bars and if I did not take them and open the door and walk free I would be the worst prisoner.…

Time’s Up

I wind the clocks. I need more time. Things run down. I wind the clocks. I set the hands to make it right. Time gets out of hand sometimes. I wind the clocks. I don’t know what the day will bring. The clocks don’t mind. They face the unknown stoically. Their hands empty to receive…

MIA

They left me for dead. Wounded. Blood. Everywhere. My own. It scared them. They ran. Good. Let them. I lay. Crawled. Gripped the dirt and pulled up on rocks to crawl up to the next. Pain so great so much like God it became a friend. I talked to it. Spit my name. More blood…

Inevitability

A man must believe in more than death or dying. What might that one thing be? Love, of course, inevitably. The fountainhead from which all life flows or otherwise what flows is mere vanity or nothing into nothing and doomed to nothing more save its own reflection which repeatedly is nothing at all. Love gives…

Hour Glass

Stare at Death. Go ahead. Face it. Look deep and watch the reflection and the sand. See how they flow together in a heap all by themselves ever downward, dissipating and irretrievable. Unless and this is all in all, you reach out and turn it over, the whole device and all its contents. As and…

But Not Out

I want to go home, but not in a box. I’ve seen my father ride in one and his father before him and the women who loved them, all carried like babies in a cradle to their final resting place. Not me. I want to go there. Know I will inevitably, but not so calm,…