time
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one o’clock the platform
one o’clock the platformone o’clock the plain the platform overlookedone o’clock the plain the stageone o’clock the platform the benchesfrom where the audience watchedone o’clock the audiencemarcellus bernardo i watchedwatched for fortinbraswatched for norwaywatched for the hour that containednorway to invadethe hour that held denmark watchedfor time to invade itselfit was a cold hour christmas Continue reading
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five oclock’s the first to leave
five oclock’s the first to leaveit also goes out through the staffonly doorits mouth’s a horn it leaves behindits voice is the sound of the hornits word is its voice that goes out in the rainthat goes through the rainwithout an umbrella without getting wetit wraps itself around the parking lotit gets into parked cars Continue reading
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it was a day like any
it was a day like anythrough the upstairs hallway most of the afternoon had passedall the doors out of the daylit hours remained closedin the time behind one of those closed doors i sleptread studied wrote talked to myself sleptthen the habit of the years was brokenas the late afternoon sun litthe hallway through a Continue reading
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varoom
varoommy lips shaped vroom varoomsounds like i was three and four and formingjourneys spun into journeys across the days prairiedto the cloud bearded horizonand from metal coils spiralledrustily and spiralled up in the seat frame baredof thread and upholstery and of all the stuffing of days spedbeyond the measure of speedometers smashedi heard the call Continue reading
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through all those minutes of sleep this
through all those minutes of sleep thishand this long pointer finger circled round the boulevard and tickedpast the same twelve addresses againand again and again cameto the twelve o’clock exit out of one drive around that wasthe entrance into the next and continuedagain and again pastthis shorter hand this thicker hand this slower hand thisthumb Continue reading
About Me
I have a day.
Jake's Flea Market 