Stark silence…well, sort of.
I hear a garbage truck, I hear a couple clocks ticking,
slightly out of sync with each other.
They sound like a tiny creature with a limp,
walking on glass.
I’ve been considering returning to the rabbit hole.
Like seriously considering it.
Nothing is really doing it for me these days
so a vacation there would definitely make things interesting,
if nothing else.
I’m too far ahead, or too far behind, I can’t really tell
All I know is that I can’t reach anyone or anything.
I move in and out, unattainable,
just as unattainable as everything is to me
I do a lot of backtracking, regress,
hoping there is a quality somewhere in the virtue of being scarce.
To be scarce is to be rare
and rare things are more valuable, usually.
There really is no going back is there?
Life is but a conveyor belt, moving everything right along
in that same old direction
Unless of course I light it on fire and drop through the middle…