Tick, Tick, Tick
the clock opens the moment
to decide, if not to plan
As days go dry
dwelling upon the lost
Will this second greet regret?
To forget the lesson
before it's taught?
I snap my fingers
and hum a song
In that precise moment
when bones shake
meet me at the gates
of an asylum
'Yes, I thought too much
of space, time, and death.
Yes, I egged it on,
Justin Tallman's Other Poems
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