creaky clocks.

my handwatch is 7 minutes fast. my alarm clock has stopped and it's set off a a hundred alarms in my head, which prod me to rush (to be late as regularly as ever.)

I don't want to be someone who can't lie in and sleep hugged
because the alarms in my head make me go running.
away from what?
sticking together
blue and white pieces of broken
porcelaine teacups.

but there you go, this morning
sunshine crawls stickily, autumnaly
up the dome
screech
down the hill
goes my bike and it creeks
like the joints of my fingers which are no longer used to typing essays and the ratches of my brain which are no longer used to thinking theories.
thump. thump. thump. goes this term and i'm still out of synch. letting people down.

the balance i got today says i'm poor. with time. and i'm afraid to give
to people
my hours away.

being stingy
is never being warm.

(but my feet can't be cold and i can't breathe in stuffy overheated rooms.)