Thursday, February 19, 2015

Backward Glances

this is
not a
but you
won't print
anything I've

you don't print anything I'd read

there's colors faded
into the past and I am
a child listening
to the tv static
watching the final
rainbow broadcast
at 4am

alone in the dark I have found
I am the last boy on earth

this is why I can't sleep

no one
is sure
to tell
me this
isn't true

even the rust covered sentries that guard my
bedroom door,

a stage coach enters scene right
there, where tea and cookies will be served
in 16-bit reality

I am falling forward behind everything,

I'll never catch up to the end

it's all a gnawing circle
placed over my iris
turning ever steady, ever onward.

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