Possibly Insanity

The red spider mite just moved (22.26 and the world's STILL not over)

I bought a book today

To show what an amateur I am

Glossy pictures

Pieces I could never compete with

But who said I’m trying?

 

I’m listening to a song now

Their telling me to

Shoot the runner

Shoot shoot the runner

Sound familiar?

 

22.08

 

I’m only writing this

Typing this

Because I’m feeling masochistic

I’ve got physics tomorrow

 

22.09

 

I’ve not been sleeping well

I should go to bed now

Try to sleep off these thoughts

But it’s

 

22.10

 

Hard to leave.

 

22.11

 

22.12

 

And there’s a red spider mite

Sitting on the screen

He’s

She’s

Been there a while now

Black against the

 

22.13

 

Blue brightness.

I keep looking out the window

It’s on my right

 

22.14

 

I’m waiting

To see if they’re coming back

Not if

When.

Saw a car…

False alarm.

Why do I even care

 

22.15

 

?

 

I bought a book today

I meant to save the money

But under pressure

I act irrationally

 

22.16

 

Now I’m stuck

Staring at all the things I’ll never be

£12.99 lighter

 

22.17

 

Hardly my moneys worth.

But

 

22.18

 

I looked up the word I was going to use

And changed my mind.

 

22.19

 

I’ll go in three minutes.

More because

I’m obsessed with symmetry

Than because I’m tired

 

22.20

 

Two minutes.

 

22.21

 

I could go now

Just to hurt myself more

It would drive me crazy

With one minute left

And the bottom of the page so near

But the music’s got me dancing

In my seat

 

22.22

 

 Damn it went over onto the next page.

And they're still not back.

 

 

 

(22.24)

(And the world still hasn’t stopped)

Funny how I was expecting it to.

 

Reviews

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

A fine job. Excellent poem. Thank you for sharing. Debileah

[Beatrice Mars]

I agree with the other review, the way you describe time and make it feel like time is passing is really awsome.

One tiny thing, And there still not back. There should be they're

awsome!

[Poeticpiers]

Waiting. We seem to spend a lot of our lives waiting for something or someone. You describe the slow passage of time well in poetcprose which is ell laid out to enhance the minutes dragging past