the clock is strung out
as time beats in parallel
to bleeding hearts
waiting for strangers
carrying horseshoes
and it’s always something new
isn’t it?
lives stretched out
like plastic glue
and printed on a comic book facade

the hands on the clock spell time
through incomplete observation
tick tick tick
solid trick
disturbing the dwindled wicks
as we
write to misunderstood misfits
with blood on soiled tiles

the clock is strung out
as order and chaos
kiss and conspire
to overthrow the common man
contemplating lips laced with profanity
the soldiers stab saints
and solicit western sanity

politically active
and spiritually inactive
as computers calculate
the terms of human persistence
civil servants are not civil
and the fraud of their existence
is never quite revealed

the clock is strung out
waiting to feed the work day
as morning weeps for
nights of neglected passion

secluded choice
every day is a dull and different picture
and i don’t like the sound of my own voice
so rejoice
in the face of indefinite detention

the clock is strung out
while one man works
and another one plays
while one woman loves
and another one slaves
feeding praise
surrender to this fading craze
fuck the political maze
and religious haze

dropping deaf tones
and feeding on hollow bones
as life is leased out
then left for dead

the clock is strung out
as slow hands
reap the rewards
of sampled living

two beats to dusk
hanging on
the anticipation
of one finite embrace

the clock is strung out
watching as i stand up
and
stand out
with a loose rhyme
almost on time
and ready for the next passage

tomorrow waits for no one
so kill the moment
with glorious exclamation