UNTITLED

Time does not want to be counted;
You speak of numbers and fall through your age.
Wear Death on the arm,
And only the second step will be freedom;
The first from the lack of it.
Remorseless tick, tocking,
But do not listen mechanically.

It is the devils wink-that change;
         that second...
And his/her hand taps on the mantle piece,
         while kicking down the doors...

Break them all,
    You will not stop...

(Digital now, for a digital mind,
Tick tocking no more,
Neon pokes up at the sore;
Burns a hole in the back of your head.)
Time comes a crawling,
     Like the crab without claws.
And who said the worms were dead

Break them all,
     And you shall not stop.

---Pete Mosely
00980342@mmu.ac.uk