God's Waiting Room

Herein the empty vessels cavort, frenzied motion capture, compass cracked, fly blown dervishes robbed of direction. Mumbling lips aflutter with poetry deranged; dry dock for the ancients, amnesiac retrograde. Inconsolable and incurable, imaginary tasks, furniture removal, trailing human waste they are the cause of. Beneath a frozen clock face, metal frames and walking sticks lean in derelict repose, surreal, Daliesque in structure. The intimate stink of bowel and bladder hangs a cloud of doomsday, peeling humanity’s very integrity. All the while waiting, injury and bonus time arthritic in progress, waiting to be touched by the hand of God.