by Hugh Mann

Created on: April 23, 2008   Last Updated: August 16, 2008

empty rays
drizzle down
no one at the road sign

seeds scattering to barren grounds
clubs alive with choking ears
love's devouring broken holes

how are we going to get back
before the frog's morbid song calls forth
the worms of decay

and writhing whispers abort the host
mind's clock unwound
shocking stop

time?

pardon me
I thought this was death
my bad

right then
tic-toc
and all that sort of thing

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