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