Now begins the play that started at the dawn of time
which didn’t really exist as we know it because
people were looking the other way and forgot to keep each other
within grasp of the next snack so they wouldn’t fall through the cracks of
the floor and drip on to the heads of the servants
who are wandering around and murmuring under the floorboards of time
as bowling balls roll across the building towards the door which will open just at the
moment when the sun disappears from existence and
all heads turn to catch a glimpse of their toes as they tap
to the rhythm of an unknown tune that is as famous and ancient as the moss
that hangs from the gutters of my gaping heart as it yawns
at the ghosts of the future and hope of the past
which stops every instant and surpasses all expectations for growth in the coming
moment of exertion with sweat pouring from every pore and on the floor
of the garage that stores cars and other valuables
collecting dust in the window of the shop on the corner of Main Street and 2nd Ave.
The Mima'amakim Forums » Poetry
2nd ave
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Posted 7 months ago #
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