This is what's become of my spare time.
I started writing this in November. Section I is long and sort of graphic so I decided not to post it. I'll likely add more over the next couple of weeks and ideally there will be some kind of discernible narrative, but then again, I've never really been much of a story teller. Well, enjoy.
NEUTRAL HOUR, PARTS II, III, IV
II.
Palmsweat in the quiet
Hums and hisses of building innards
Like a million novice harpists with the volume turned almost all the way down.
I’m waiting for you with embarrassing eagerness
And running low on face-saving descriptors.
Christmas bulbs light the wall motel pink and make me wish I was 70 so that I could have lived in an era when buildings were actually painted that color.
Now,
Not enough smoke, not enough toe tapping.
III.
Warm beer.
IV.
It's not often I'm granted this kind of clarity.
The inside of me feels heavy, sore, like a fruitless labor.
So much thinking and nothing to show for it.
This is what I do for you and stop it you're consuming me and there won't be anything left and if I don't have you and I don't have me then what do I have what the fuck do I have?
You're consuming me and there won't be anything left.
Arabesques over and over in the living room.
Nothing to show for it.
NEUTRAL HOUR, PARTS II, III, IV
II.
Palmsweat in the quiet
Hums and hisses of building innards
Like a million novice harpists with the volume turned almost all the way down.
I’m waiting for you with embarrassing eagerness
And running low on face-saving descriptors.
Christmas bulbs light the wall motel pink and make me wish I was 70 so that I could have lived in an era when buildings were actually painted that color.
Now,
Not enough smoke, not enough toe tapping.
III.
Warm beer.
IV.
It's not often I'm granted this kind of clarity.
The inside of me feels heavy, sore, like a fruitless labor.
So much thinking and nothing to show for it.
This is what I do for you and stop it you're consuming me and there won't be anything left and if I don't have you and I don't have me then what do I have what the fuck do I have?
You're consuming me and there won't be anything left.
Arabesques over and over in the living room.
Nothing to show for it.