czwartek, 5 września 2013

ELAPSED



Elapsed


I’m fixing my curriculum
Though prospects are nebulous
Can I kill more birds with one stone?
My stakes seem tenebrous

Vaporous progress drags me back
The clock withdrew its hands
The cup cries out for coffee
Denies more hasty demands

The world is prone to war
I’m leaving through back door

When the phone refuses to cry
As if for a long bank holiday
I’m excavating my life swirls
Shall I step back? I’m afraid.

Typing lines on t’guitar string
Has always been my pick
Now tap dance of my fingers
Needs a firm walking stick

The world is prone to war
I’m leaving through back door

Detecting little earthquakes causes dizziness
Perpetual change could be fate’s bitchiness

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