Demonstrating half remembered techniques
for the uninterested, and watching ants
crawl around raisins dropped on the
concrete. The build up over time sets a pace
that cannot be maintained forever.
There are secret levers in the machine
that we come to as rewards for our time
in the clockwork. Which would mean that
all our moments end up somewhere.
Pretending to care about everything like
they could get along with anyone and they
can, but never noticing how the kids all hang
their heads. There are connecting threads
between the lot of it. Panic induced space
ships help start a coughing fit.
This thing’s got strings upon strings helping
air under its wings, and there’s almost
nothing left; a perfect nightmare.