View Full Version : Inside the Eleventh Hour

Doom Juan
12-10-2012, 04:23 AM
Inside the Eleventh Hour

There is nothing here to read.

Monday offers me a lift to the hallway, and I take it
followed by coffee from a fat machine
in the kitchen. It speaks to me
of food, and children, and which to have for supper;

I have no idea.

But I answer her anyway: you eat the food, and I’ll
beat the kids I say. This doesn’t amuse the machine
at all. So I go back to my room.

Where everything’s a mess.

And as if I give a fuck I turn to writing something down
about the planet. Give it thirteen hours,
and wonder who would choose to run it
for a minute. Pretend I do.

And love would vanish in one dark hour of New York
against a polished backdrop.

And so would war.

And so would I.


01-24-2013, 08:49 PM