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Tock Talk

26 Feb
swigging down a Monster drink, 

the house is still 

caffeinated fingers tap on keys. 

Nothing is a lot to express. 

It is all chemical. 

Wiggly legs hold back a drip. 

A square slow methodical clock 

tock   tock   tock 

rides the whirring of the computer fans 

heat whooshing from the floor registers. 

Copper has a smell 

& turns the wrist green 

making a click when the links are spun. 

An 8 track on the fireplace bricks 

boomed Bad Company 

at five in the empty living room. 

Like this writing, 

time to dribble.


 
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Posted by on February 26, 2022 in Poetry

 

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