By David Estringel
tick…tock
tick…tock
The days are long
in a life of slow motion.
Waking uptakes too long,
despite the violent assaults
of the alarm clock,
unchained
by a snooze button–
–like me—
worn down
to the circuitry.
tick…tock
tick…tock
Get up late,
again.
Take a whore bath
in the bathroom sink.
Wash what needs it
and get out the door.
Shower’d be nice…really nice
Maybe tomorrow.
Probably not,
again.
tick…tock
tick…tock
Office clocks–
harbingers of death
to my soul–
lament the dying of the fire, within.
Telephone rings perforate
recirculated air of lungs and mouths
like a symphony of electric crickets,
tuning-up beneath the hepatic glow
of fluorescent suns
outside my cubicle’s walls.
tick…tock
tick…tock
Driving home in the same car,
down the same roads,
in the same rancid clothes
that need more than just a good airing out,
stuck in this bad track mix, playing on a loop,
I need a drink.
There’s a bottle at home.
Whiskey, I think–a gift for my 50th.
It goes down, rough,
but smooth, after a glass or two or three.
Smooth is good
in a life of no motion.
tick…tock
tick…tock
(Repeat All)
David Estringel is an avid reader, poet, and writer of fiction, creative non-fiction, & essays. He is currently a Contributing Editor (fiction) at Red Fez, editor/columnist at The Good Men Project, and an editor/writer at The Elixir Magazine. David can be found on Twitter (@The_Booky_Man) and his blog “The Booky Man” at thebookyman.wordpress.com
