Treasure Island

Chris G. Vaillancourt

(April 5,1959 / Canada)

Through The Tick, Tick Tock of This Clock


Through the tick, tick tock of this clock,
.............oceans move and winds explode.
Priests wagging fingers, Dogs wagging tails.
Tick, tock. tick, tock.
Constructive flailing will begin
............at exactly quarter to nine.
The drums will do their drumming thing,
..............and the shepherds will eat their pie.
Illusions upon illusions, paper upon rock;
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
Every head will stroke the beat
..............and drip in collective distress.
The flies will fly, the creatures will deny,
the passage of the
..............last of the glue.
If we sniff it, or if we don't,
the spiders will still crawl in
....................elegant indifference.
The truth will be somewhere,
........... the truth will be observed.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
......................As the water warms in the bathtub,
.......................as the man allows himself to bathe,
.........................the soft slice of the curled knife
............................puts every doubt in remission.
Tick, tock. Tick tock.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 02, 2014
Edited: Wednesday, April 02, 2014

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Topic(s): life

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