Cornucopia of Misery

1.
The dark and the stink;
a fermentation of fantasy,
a cornucopia of misery.

2.
Frustrated toasters still in the box;
never been plugged in,
just waiting to burn that bread;
as if they were waiting for ships from the West.

3.
The clock on the wall continues to click
in its internal congregation of mechanisms;
A gyration of its monopoly on time.
Continue to charge me with your touch,
and I will count the seconds precisely until the end.

4.
Reading by the lamp;
focused on fiction;
a thought passes through the mind
and changes my intrinsic nature.



[21:50|27.12.011] ©c.thomas.carter