Money's The Root, I am the Blossom

$

Zombie-stepping the concrete conga; floral prints and plaid confusion. High pitched child sounds the siren. An elderly woman becomes a speedbump. Nobody has a spare second to be human. We’ve all got too many things to do. Look at the watch, look at the sky, race the sun to the house.

 

=

Paying bills via cell phone. I can feel a tumor forming in the frontal lobe. Mother’s calling on the backline. Dad’s had a stroke. No more vacation days left to watch him die.  Look at the watch, look at the sky, cry alone until morning.

 

∞�-∞

Swinging the hammer that keeps us alive. Today feels like I’m building my own crucifix. Tommorrow, I’ll start on my coffin. Look at the watch, look at the sky. Everything has a deadline.

Reviews

[roarke]

You've got it. Now we need to beat it out of you.

I can't speak to the premise.... as I would use up all WC's bandwidth.

I don't know if you know this, but I steal from you all the time. I soak in your imagery, your phrasing, your juxtaposition and all the other literary words I can't spell and I steal.
rob you. rip you off. Your framing is impeccable. Simile and metaphor, untouchable.

that's why we gotta beat the living crap out of you. C'mere.... no really, c'mere...

[Ed Hart]

mr roarke is very funny...c'mere

no, really