Tick, Tick, Tick
03/14 2021
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Naming the necessary parts
Of the things that happened
Is of prime importance
On that darkened kitchen island
Hovering over the partly thawed chicken breast
Tick, tick, tick against her breast
The silence was too much for her then
Naming the necessary steps to take
Can wait yet another day
He put his hands through his hair
And looked at his reflection in the mirror
His feet in the tar fields
And cigarettes dipped in sea water
Tick, tick, tick against his heart
The light illuminated the blackness
And dried the tobacco up
Smoke rises, disturbs his neighbor, for yet another day
And old Madame Aphrodite,
Clutching the pearls of her third marriage
Under the frosted sheets of her bed
Her daydreams pulled her between ice and fire,
Afternoon tea in Paris,
Afternoon beers in Vienna,
And the sunrise over her firstborn son's face.
Tick, tick, tick her radio echoes from inside the bathroom
Dead sounds do little to exhaust the corpses in her mind
Especially when the living stopped caring
About her wicked tarot cards
Her nails tries to dig up someone from beneath her window, yet another time
And the boy who awakens for the first time
Once every Wednesday afternoon
From the creation of his own delusions
Tick, tick, tick --- metastasizing
From the palmy beaches he spent all his time running towards
Because, in the end, we tend to be afraid of waking up alone
He drove into the sunset toward his own delusion
Putting on his sunglasses --- it is too bright you see?
It is, indeed, possible to dream it back to life in ones mind ---
If only there was yet another day, you should smile either-way, anyhow.
And the frozen actress, by the windy ruins of the abandoned beach
Stands alone facing treason in front of the harbinger of love,
Of the man of her fate, almost faded
The one created, silhouetted in her dreams
By the sacred shadows of her heart to forget tomorrow
Tick, tick, tick by their shared rhythm
To sway slowly by the candlelight at 5AM
She really, at that point, had no one to meet
But the imagined, yet real, trip of conversation
Between her senses, and what she would say if he was really there
On yet another night of promises
I stood unknowing beneath their windows
And asked for Madame to turn it up
My eardrums are shot since the accident ---
You should know since they started praying for my soul.
Like last year in the garden beneath the floral roof
Where the one-eyed man looked at me
And begged me to hear
Tick, tick, tick goes the silver screen
And I couldn't help but turn away, yet again.
Now beneath the windows,
Full of October coughs
Crows perched on the drainpipes
The broken images --- or reasons ---
Fade against the eternal raindrop
You want to hug her softly from behind;
Show him how a broken wing can heal;
Ring Aphrodite's doorbell with salad & Pinot Noir;
Crush the sunglasses in your arthritic palm;
Laugh with her against the mirror, escape to the vague sky;
And tell them that things will be okay.
Tick, tick, tick screams the light from the screen
For yet another day, reality lives through it, and not through them.