Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Clench

The Clench 

The immutable clench of Monday morning
Wrapping python appendages in a throat collar
Of feckless words to utter to office wood paneling
Thirty years patterned in machine cohesion  

Phone rings ears to mouths, alternating faces
Toilet mirages taking turns on salutations, greetings
Mimicking small talk auditing respect and manners
Apathy eats away like orange juiced acid berating the armor  

Of ethic, of concern, of want to improve
The shackle of stasis has clamped
Dreams waft in plump cheeks and cracked rib radiators
Hustling for a fix job, a crimp fluid injection  

The dulcet sounds of oblivion beckon tongue waggles
To pulsate a response like cunilingus that was actually effective
Producing an honest reaction of happiness reverberating through the room
Like Mozart arrangements harmonic and the sort of confluence 

The world would seek to replicate if only any moment could be
Forever the left side of a brain pursues, yet is caught in an inescapable present
Perpetually taunted by a past and future out of reach like rainbows
Of when it was or what if this could be  

Oh, the light spectrum of my New Orleans
Katrina has bludgeoned you to a parade of plastic surgery
We are strangers, discussing what we might discuss
If we could ever find the time for coffee, as if I ever drink the beans  

Grounds spit out chalking and coarse invade a spasmodic larynx
Seizing the second of the now approaches and muted into ridiculous appearances
In the moment of requirement producing nothing but an unending river
Of analogies and similes, because the truth is a wrenching testament  

Void of empathy to a cancerous tale that only spreads to rot other potential hosts
There is no sanctuary when a man and woman entwine into one body
The blood cells are ingrates and jesters of melancholy and bitter Wednesdays
Like DNA markers of another septet of calendar numeric platelets vanquished  

There is no scab for there is no open wound only a sloop stack coat rack of skin on bones
Standing or sitting, sleeping or eating, motions of hampered respiration Mondays 

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