Like Slanted Shadows on the Road

Our notion of afternoon had to do with

The siesta of passing bleeding hopes

A semi-minute it took to breath well

On an empty stomach at the past for good

To truly feel the processing of all afternoons

 

All passing transparency of light

The trembling waving lyrics left unnoticed

Aches better left internal, misunderstood

 

Lost to attentive passer Byers

The future remained a heathen country

Full of autonomous regions, gentle reminders

Of what we could become, though

There would be no rest, and that was fearsome

 

Only the shapeless volume of technology

Merging with mind, intelligence launched

Headlong into the speed of secret stretches

Where time became something eventful. 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s