Like a hundred hummingbirds beating away
Their feathers of flight, just bidding away
A time to recall how many times a day
Their feathers of flight, just bidding away
A time to recall how many times a day
They will hum their daily chances
Of remaining airborne
No rules to beckon
To and never again
Will we hear them stay…
As they will always be on their way.
These nails are born
To hold me in a strait
From potholes
To a tousled bed
With a tipped night-lantern…
These nails will be biting away
At my teeth and a pacified,slower canter.
You are a thought, a throng of dots
Pilfering your own time,
A menace of nots,
A pulsating vein
On this sunny forehead,
A doodle of pinpricks
And a crass paperweight…
Lest I fly away,
These nails will beg
For once a habit
Is always a mistake...
You will hear me not,
You will only hear me hum,
Oh but the nailbiter
Is again at her humming rum!
These nails will be biting away
At my teeth and a false alarm.
A rogue of shallow cadaver,
A petty human beleaguered
Into the craft of playing naked
In the muck, with human laughter …
I remain yours to always be,
Enslaved by your rivalry,
These nails will grow and become a need
To be alive and not to feel.
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