You are here

Backward Glances

this is

not a



but you

won't print

anything I've



you don't print anything I'd read


there's colors faded

into the past and I am

a child listening

to the tv static

watching the final

rainbow broadcast

at 4am


alone in the dark I have found

I am the last boy on earth


this is why I can't sleep


no one

is sure


to tell

me this

isn't true


even the rust covered sentries that guard my

bedroom door,


a stage coach enters scene, right

there, where tea and cookies will be served

in 16-bit reality


I am falling forward behind everything,


I'll never catch up to the end


it's all a gnawing circle

placed over my iris

turning ever steady, ever onward.

November 16, 2015