New Years Resolution To Finish Work On My Time Machine Invention Met With Materializations in Thin Air of Encouraging Notes From My Future Self

the years can cut / veins in vain / from these hands / callouses come / and cut cans / here lies our best laid plans / for one nine nine five
when we were ten past nine / the best years of our lives/ were calendirt to our peers / an outlet for these tears / if age is grace i’m amazing / age gone greys i’m just gone / if age is grace somebody save me / age gone greys i’m an amazing disgrace / nineteen
the years can kill / a weak one and it will / nothing safe takes it’s place / we’ll retain what’s replaced / this is my face
if age is grace i’m amazing / age gone greys i’m just gone / if age is grace somebody save me / age gone greys i’m an amazing disgrace / carousel and sold can get so old / and i don’t need your help


you can keep your new year’s revolutions to yourself


what did you sell
what can we buy
what did you say
whats a goodbye

Woke up drunk with the distilled residue of science, dewed in the empty glass tubes, experimental, dropped like teardrops around my room. If this is the test, where is the control? I ask myself, barely moving, eyes so lulling as to roll.

“Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass;
I find letters from God dropped in the street, and every one is signed by God’s name,
And I leave them where they are,
for I know that others will punctually come forever and ever.”

If this was a stain, on memory… I believe it was the juice and pulp of crushed forget-me-nots… and strain to think the purpose of the blot was to be washed out on time and future sunlight, described in trials as ‘the best disenfectant’.

Where you are, I know the price of potions. Choice, the things you need, the paths like rivulets draining for the hours you so frequently do waste. But tie a ribbon round the neck of this decapitated thought: New Year, Revolution. I am coming for you. Don’t burn away the mind all mind a way you got.

(Crucible, STL 2020/1)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s