Going Nowhere Fast

While sitting with ...
your nihilistic breakfast sandwich, and a cheap smile that came from the Polaroid.

The people in the frame don't resemble you or your family,
see how hard it is to throw the seeds in the air, in the hair.
Vine suffocate, a blind tomb.

Buried in soft focus,
cold remembrance,
and a painters dry brush.

Big hands speaking
in the shadows,
directors of the set,
flame holders made of wax,
body parts soft to touch,
but melts in your hand,
melts in your head.

Melts with the sand,
in the hand of your follower,
your mind of the swallower
it's liquid is seeping in your eyes,
shut your eyes,
no eye lids shutter, no stutter for the zoom

Change the hides,
and chimes ringing,
lets go, time to go.

move on over with your
days, and years.

But leave me some change,
and some new wrapping paper
for your hunch.