10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
Idle Thoughts Idle Pursuit and Time Machinations I have a thought. I want to speak it into existence, in the air between us. The fan blades slice molecules, silent re-assimilation about my ears. But those fan blades hold dust from Krypton. Someone would have to turn off the power to inspect, decide: Mix a bucket with chemicals or simply use anti-bacterial wipes to daub clean? My yet to exist thought will wait until I've slowed time, gears of machination, to consider phraseology and the right time to utter my notion. Your eyes dull yellow in this fading light. I know you could crush me, too. Speak this thought into existence, While I remove the blades; one by one, unscrewed, delivered to a bath in the sink to scrub? How long has it been? I must put each cleansed wing, inspected and delivered, to a dry towel, then view a gritty sink I should scour next. I think about political correctness, if I've fully grasped societal norm, avoid shame from speaking like a racist old man, uncouth. The white arms return to their house, bolted securely, as I wonder about your quiet. Not a word. Alone like me, couched in distraction. Housework and games and freedom of speech. No freedom from humming on high, or the hungry refrigerator, sucking ampules, too. When will I speak thoughts into shared reality; daunted, knowing you've said, you know my every story? You've critiqued every word uttered. The sink is where my head will go next. The minutes to night you don't count, drain in my idle pursuit. Head Like A Hole Nine Inch Nails 'Black as your soul' For: "The Soundtrack of Your Life" |