fast food dreams killed on site

and told to not resuscitate, do not make it worse

by letting it continue on,

barely hanging on to sodium thrills and the delight of sugar mountains

pouring over concrete as a heavy syrup courses through veins

made of silly putty in form and form-less alone

you need to look up,

don’t stare straight ahead,

back a few places,

not that far, closer,

pace it better, straight up,

then to your right,

a little to your left,

up, down, left left right,

all the way down the hall,

and you’re there, destination on your right,

rest easy,

now go to sleep,

you can thank me later

time trouble is perhaps one of the worst things that can happen to you in life,

when you’re confronted by the crackling of springs and clicks

composed in such a manner,

taunt, spinning, in that repetitive manner that makes everything look exactly alike,

while telling yourself it’s all different,

your making something unique,

but time makes everyone repetitive and droning,

because nothing has never come from nothing,

unless you’re talking about that knight fork that came outta nowhere

Fred Aiken Writing