Wednesday, August 5, 1998

eleven an hour


so hard to make the time
stuck inside my head hours
trickle like a drying stream
going nowhere
I find a spot of shade, but
no one to join me there
and the thoughts keep
pounding, threatening to
break the walls
everyone is too busy to notice
it’s too hard to make
the time go, when I may have uttered
two complete sentences all day
can’t wait until I am at home
much easier to take time there, time enjoyed,
time well spent, seems as though—
here, time wastes…

No comments: