August 4, 2008

EITHER LOST OR JUST LOSERS


a sullen town groans
with the roar of
a thousand lawn mowers
and a small aircraft

this place is inescapable
as it seeps through my window
and wraps itself 'round me
in a boyscout knot I cannot untie

now the clang of some bell
comes deep from its throat
to travel across town
in a most vain attempt

remind of this passing and
reminisce of some past
to be trapped in a time coded algorithm
where I am chained to myself

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