Sand in the Gears of Tomorrow

As words escape down alleyways
I hum a tune half-remembered
Rising from sandy seabed memory disturbed
All mannerisms and salt encrusted poses
For a man who has no failings

From canyon corners caverns caves
Echo back a second out of time
From hotel room fake fjord walls
Loaded lullabies of nostalgia and regret
Presupposing a yet unmade bed

Chords established ingrained and entrenched
When struck will vibrate through time
To afternoon rooms sunlit and stagnant
Postcards from a past
Folded stitched hem embroidered

September 2010

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