It’s Like I Spasm

The silver chain
Of oxygen
Slips off my neck
Sours the drain
In particles
Ever-entwined
A sculpted frame
One charm, one strange

Come through the cycle
Push through the senses
It’s like I spasm
Reacting defenseless

A silver sprocket
In copper cogs
Unhinged faceplate
Friction dissolved
From inertia
Mutations collide
Statistics lie
And dodge and divide

Come through the cycle
Push through the senses
It’s like I spasm
Opposite but equal

My flywheel hand
Half-derailed
Shakes into glass
Cold and fingers fogged
Silver to gold
Carbon to quartz
Subatomic
Permanent frost

Accelerate the cycle
Overwhelm the senses
It’s like I spasm
Stop-motion eyelids.

 

copyright©dwc2005

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