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Tom's Poetry |
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Interludealways below sad lightsthis chill home of black alloy the drone of info television while outdoor the always grind of the crowd mechanic rubber smoldering in the sink machine the click & whir of some neglected belt & spring a cloud layer of foul exhaust swirling at the somber movement from couch to bathroom mirror splash the face with the copper rust of water & failing to betray the stubble with a blade trace wet careful fingers along mirror-side circuitry & narrow shades widen to allow a broader band of night to illuminate channels across the room to the door unopen musing the android question one more time & another still movement to the window where drift blinking neon billboards along slowly predetermined ponderous skies which broadcast the angelic hum & subliminal sounds of grace & what motion of the eye reflects in window panes while ever the shrill whine of focus & defocus & the flutter of regulator flaps as the heat & cool of the room electric dilate in waves of time (C) 1/6/97 Tom Brinck ACCESSIBILITY FEATURES / SITEMAP / CONTACT |
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Poetry