The Wages of Time

TYPE YOUR SYNOPSIS HERE la la la la la . . . just plain nuts


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Stars shine through rips in your soul’s perforations.
What shines through mine is for you to say.
The clock’s claws pinch our lives into pieces,
Permits release to sightsee heaven, pinches again.
Scar tissue builds so that no dream may pierce.
Our fingers are stained from plucking black flowers
Crowding the path we’re told leads to happiness.
Gotta go to work, clock tocks,
Pinch, pinch, go--gotta!
Amid night beer and tears of planets we talk.
Inebriation comes, arguments, not bliss.
Wish it was different.
We eek by while animals get to be Buddhas.
The enlightenment game is rigged for loss.
We can’t put a name to our brain’s pretty constellations.
This little piggy lost her appetite, got too thin.
What once was sun has become smudge.
Time lifts the eraser, big bad wolf.
This little piggy can waltz through walls
And over the waves but drowns anyway.
We thought we could, we thought we could . . .