they said "it takes time, and" you didn't
listen to the rest, dissipating
like a mad scent
(and like whisper-words you say
maybe ten minutes on end
to keep in my cowering, threatened words
where they sit calm with the bayonet
point, sharp as a wit, and perhaps just
as effective)
you keep up an assault on my
dim perceptions, of time and
even real things

so sleep can finally decide
fates, and courses

and everyone's peace

08/09/2005

Author's Note: From paper, it's final, I guess.

Posted on 08/09/2005
Copyright © 2025 Corey Lockaby