Saturday, February 18, 2012

Time’s Killing You

I was laying cross-ways on my bed in my white boxers one end of week morning feeling
Over run; taking a deep breath w/my head reeling madly and slightly over the edge.
Over the edge of the bed as well.
The ceiling fan was on the spin cycle racing the devil with my eyes trying to shake loose
That ghost and its complications off its weary brown fins; and I exhaustedly let go of my next
Breath and everything was suddenly still w/the exception of the heavy pulsing in my veins.
Everything was frozen in motion.

The city was quiet for a moment. Everyone’s confessions held with my exhale.
Everyone was caught in a mid-blink in the middle of their burdens or their passions that devotedly Kill. The Birds were hovering outside en route to where they will w/a warm autumn breeze holding Their calibrated dive and I threw the currents to my god ~
And I craniated.


“How will you make your millions young man?
 How will you make it?”


Beware! says my witch ~

Time’s killing you
And the clock is on time’s side.


1994
Victor Millan

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