Lost in Transit

-

The days we live start after
and end long before
all the days there are.
Our days - enveloped by them -
are sent to those we'll never know
and most are lost in transit.

 The whole thing's like a box
we can't quite get a hold of,
not too heavy but
just too big to grip.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hard Boiled - 2019 Rewrite

-
Handful of sweets like teeth launched straight into his open mouth makes you wince: head flipped back -  trilby glued on - and all over in no time. Back to the broken nose you first saw; and the glare. Looking around won't help -  how nerves work is his living. His thoughts aren't many but they're stark and made for this. Have to hope something happens out of a dream: He loses interest and leaves. Close your eyes like life won't end.
Read more

Blankness

-
This blankness, often dizzying background, Is never the absence of all the stuff desired Which would be easier. It's hill start pressure, plump with anticipation. What happened then? What didn't? The layers of the record are weathered away Until a backbeat warms the harshest vocal, The same word ringing out forever. And we didn't see it coming. There was nothing to see.
Read more