Night Music
Long nights
transcribe me into a clacking music.
Harpsichord bones and broken keys,
nailed to an out of time tune.
A somnambulant self-winding
pipe-organ, whistles
as it pushes moments around
as if time could be saved
for later use.
A mind-locked keyboard
is stuck in the middle
of a revolving thought.
I lay down in the back row
of a horn belching bedlam;
wave weary hands at the ceiling
conducting curse words
in the dark.
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