by Greta Jane Pedersen
tick tick tick
tock tick tick
tick tock tick
tick tick tock tick tick t-tick tick tock tick
tick tick tick tick tick tick tock tick
tick tick tick tick tick tick tock tick tick tick tick tick tick
tick tick tick tock tick tick tick tick tock tick tock tock tock an engine in the middle tick it’s paper a dance it’s paper I saw this coming I saw this paper door tracing shapes hhhhhhowwwling I can’t remember what? I can’t remember howling who ooooo ooo00000000 I keep finding an engine in the middle it’s back again I keep finding was it you? I can’t remember what? was it me? whhhhooooooooooowwl the presence of coffee give praise to bad clocks tick tick tick tick and then it all fell apart and then it all fell parts I remember parts clearly the strings the strings on the street in the air in front of the drops of light
air on let go let go let go let go couldn’t stop relentless dance floating in space I…..I….. forget forget tick forget tick forget again for got why wait? forget procrastinate procrastinate
longer spin apart tick for what? make shapes
make sense f or who? forget we are all garbage garbage garden garbage dancing in the wind we can’t not spin if we don’t want to save it mark it trace it forget again again keep it refuse refusal remain repeat refuse fate repeat tick repeat re…… poems I used to know strings along tick
these strings shapes tools of my survival
aung.robo
wow! this is exactly where i am at after immersing myself in “proxy” lit for the past 3 hours. gorgeous.