Month: September 2012

blindfold

the calender

squeaks

shrill off of the wall,

daring me to an act of honest and wholesome violence.

What is the death of a day?
Would it
shrivel
and
vanish
on the side of the road
or
lay about to be carrion, easily dragged off
by some hovering
beast
of opportunity?

I’ve shattered clocks just to find out.

There are scalpels at the ready
for time.

But as patients go,
this one squirms on its gurney,
won’t take morphine,

and it bites

the way an angel caught in a jar might.

Don’t ask me for directions.

We’re all
just
wading through
with our
fingertips.