Ghosts
As time slips away falling a pocketful of sand
in gravity between my fingers of thumb and
memory lost in temporary like a clockwork
ticking measured in hours among the stones
leaving only dust and schizophrenia with ghosts
in my Lenovo as time slips away falling
listening to the Rorschach echo,
“Jack be nimble, Jack be quick”
It is the echo of city, be like that, be like this. As I drift slowly on the narrow streets.
The ghosts and schitzophrenia keeping me company. The morning seems far away. It is dark here in the city of ghosts.
Collaboration with Atticus Abbey
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