On Suffering Mid-Terms
On Presidents,
Foreign Policy,
listening to the echo, the
turning of pages
monotonous, synonomous
with sniffles, then ear-piercing
silence.
Nope. Ruined by humming
of computers, technology designed
to make this all easier. God save
those who had to do this before,
with out the thousand-dollar
instruments of procrastination.
God save me. Save the cola can
with carbonation bubbles snapping
against the aluminum can. If I didn't know
better, I'd swear my Vanilla Coke
was sending out distress calls. Electric clocks
don't tick. They just
stare at
you, you never
know when
they're going to
change. But then they do. The suspense
is lost with my interest. There turns another page.
Turn it back, I did't actually read
three of those paragraphs. Damn it.
And I was so proud of myself
for getting through them. Every minute
brings me closer to test-time. Every minute
seems further from sleep. And even there
I am not safe.
Foreign Policy,
listening to the echo, the
turning of pages
monotonous, synonomous
with sniffles, then ear-piercing
silence.
Nope. Ruined by humming
of computers, technology designed
to make this all easier. God save
those who had to do this before,
with out the thousand-dollar
instruments of procrastination.
God save me. Save the cola can
with carbonation bubbles snapping
against the aluminum can. If I didn't know
better, I'd swear my Vanilla Coke
was sending out distress calls. Electric clocks
don't tick. They just
stare at
you, you never
know when
they're going to
change. But then they do. The suspense
is lost with my interest. There turns another page.
Turn it back, I did't actually read
three of those paragraphs. Damn it.
And I was so proud of myself
for getting through them. Every minute
brings me closer to test-time. Every minute
seems further from sleep. And even there
I am not safe.