11:28

Side damaged.
Indefensible.
Pistachio shells litter my desk and my soul.
I question the midnight sound
of freezing rain making its way down the leaf-filled gutters.
Miles and miles away
you are distancing yourself from me.
I miss you but I really wasn’t aiming at you.
I’ll see you later on in life
unless you or I don’t make it there.
You’ll be a character who comes back midway through the film version of this life.
It could be anyone but you’ll be given that role.
Jumper cables for bumper cars.
Skipper slippers that are fuzzy and warm.
A flaming spiked mace ball is a struggle for the juggler.
I am haunted by the hunt
For Huckleberry Flint.
That doesn’t sound right but neither does Samuel Lemons.
I cruise for a muse – meant looking for inspiration.
I buy what I can’t afford to be without.
Without you, I am nothing more than a cliche without the accent.
I descend into madness and fury.
I don’t have a snowball’s chance in this world.
Like the snowball, I will eventually disappear.
Maybe not now but after a snowfall or above freezing weather.
I cradle the grave in which you set me.
I trust the minutes that disappear.
11:28.
11:28
11:28
It will always be 11:28 here and I won’t change that.
That’s the only power I have.