by Sean Portland

Created on: March 27, 2010

the hideous hisses of clock-hands scissor-snip history
reverses the chairs at wedding rehearsals, tock-ticks,
prayers, verse-less, once sung, unsung.  Un-done’s , wrong turns,
circular swerves and long-gone’s

torsion in doormats, see-saws snap, hard floors see-saw,
now all sorts of orphans endorse endorphins of all sorts:  
arteries partial to chalk and chemically arrested ventricles steadily fed,
promises bottled under bottles of port

now different mistresses come in binges, indifferently  
jittery fingers hit inaudible chords
while nobody sings to me “so long” and the concept of naught
and infinity unstoppably cripples me,

but thankfully destiny pesters me no more

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