Poetry:K

Kids
Killed The Clock



Kids
we like our music loud

our culture rude

our future bright

or dark

or big


our religion's extinct

there's no god now

there's only us

there's only me

or you

or none


we like our ultra-sex

our heavy drugs

our only loves

or high

or not


our fear's dissipated

there's no law now

there's only life

there's only moods

or stop

or go


we like our psychosis

our language sick

our voices heard

or hard

or gone




Killed The Clock

Open vainty in disconcerted minds,

poverty-stricken Christmas joy,


The clock ticks on.


Delicate wings unleashed on hands

that move as slowly as time.

Burning love,

Smothered ashes,


The drum beats still.


Molten wax and cherry lips puckered

against splintered wood.

Fake plastic diamond ring of promise

enclosed within my heart.


The moment passes.


Rotting sensation buried deep beneath my skin,

surfaced yet drowning for lack of air,

so poisoned and black,


The last breath exhaled.


Frustrated peace and lusting for love,

fringed by death while

surrounded by life,


The clock ticks on.