Friday, October 1, 2010

poem of the day 10.01.10

b/c i'm soak and wet and hungover and
had one helluva time getting out of bed
this morning, here's a poem from 2008
that pretty much is where i'm at right now:

ode to my alarm clock

clock
there is no device
worse than you
in this apartment.

clock
i stare at you
at three in the morning
and wonder
what the fuck?

clock
you are only metal
and mercury
and wire

but clock
you run my life
from your perch
on my dirty
wine-soaked
nightstand.

clock
i can’t help
but watch you
on those nights
when i can’t sleep.

clock
i have those nights
where i think
i’m dying.
what do you think
about that?

clock
with your
red devil lights
announcing moments
that i’ll never get
back
and hours i should
never see.
clock
i can’t help
thinking
that you’re laughing
at me
when i get out of bed
to piss
or to attack the machine
before the sun
comes up.

clock
who invented you?
was it one man
or groups of people
over time
that should’ve been
murdered?

clock
leave me alone
can’t you see i’m going mad?
clock
can’t you see you’re killing me?

clock
how will it end
between us?
how will we finish?
with my last breath
or on some random night
when you give out
and i wake up
late for work?

clock
we suffer each other
like an old bitter
couple

so clock
i’d like to end
this relationship
if i could
before i’m ruined
and no good
to anyone else
except the boss man
and the almighty swing
of commerce
and brutal coercion.

1 comment:

Bukowski's Basement said...

This is pure truth in every sense of the word...