Stuck in time
Awash with movies
and on an afternoon
That was blessed
With no clouds whatsoever.
With no chance whatsoever.
A hopelessness blows,
Not loudly enough to move the wind-chimes.
Shining through the closed widows,
Keeping the sinners and widows out
Passing through ruffled curtains-
Passing through deserted towns-
Hating their own handwriting-
Nursing their own injured hamstrings-
Waiting for the oven to finally preheat
Seconds turn into place settings and minutes turn into
What little light does shine through,
illuminates the dust-
Illuminates the angels present within this corridor,
Salvaging what can be salvaged.
This motion picture,
Stuck in this quicksand-
Tundra clouds fast approaching,
Sounds from tired chainsaws.
Sounds born from the mouths of volcanoes,
Sounds born from some distant forest,
Sounds born out of violence.
The only place to truly rest,
Is glued to a loveseat,
In between previews,
Tossing and turning,
Calling out for any hero,
Calling out for any gorgon,
in between previews
still lost in the mist.