Yesterday, 02:33 AM
Half Life
The pill only lasts
57 minutes now.
I need to increase
the dosage.
It's for the work,
not the high.
Dodging bullets,
throwing a Buick,
then the sand runs out,
hands on my knees,
out of breath,
climbing the fire escape,
muscles clocking out early,
those lost seconds crawl
under my skin.
No more technicolor,
just the flicker
of a hallway bulb
and a clock fixed in place.
I’ve done the math,
checked the half-life,
eighteen months to seizure,
or simply fading
into the crowd.
The pill only lasts
57 minutes now.
I need to increase
the dosage.
It's for the work,
not the high.
Dodging bullets,
throwing a Buick,
then the sand runs out,
hands on my knees,
out of breath,
climbing the fire escape,
muscles clocking out early,
those lost seconds crawl
under my skin.
No more technicolor,
just the flicker
of a hallway bulb
and a clock fixed in place.
I’ve done the math,
checked the half-life,
eighteen months to seizure,
or simply fading
into the crowd.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson