Friday, April 07, 2006

24 Twenty Four Hours Ago

The pills were meant to dig my eyes out with.
Prescribed with enormous hoopla,
Fanfare of the enrichments near a grave stone,
Trumpets and the like. The best
Part of the half I ate was a city street,
The way the other half left town
Before something really withheld percolated.
A creased note under the door,
Some light far off broken by feet
And this mortuary movie is over. Rendered
Part good time part granted insurrection,
Time released sanctions to a burn memory,
And the plan of our secret sleep confused
Into a popped vacuum tube’s cool filament.

2 comments:

Clay Blancett said...

not to be a dick, but I think its "twenty twenty twenty-four hours to go"

Clay Blancett said...

Yeah get me to the airport, & get me on the plane, hurryhurryhurry before I go insane. I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain. oh oh oh oh oh-oh!