Shuttle Bus 17: A Poetry Collection

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The bell tolls, an animatic chase, as the

Binding arms of the clock reach to meet

Each other before the succeeding minutes

That await at the next railway stop.

Another sluggish excuse for a midsummer night,

When abruptly, hounds can be heard

Clustering, as if tearing into crevices of

Leftovers, the trickling, oozing, as their

Paws gnaw away at the oxidized blood that

Lingers on their cusps, before retreating.

I am left with a cup half empty in my study,

The reflection of a once inviting screen

Overlying on my glasses frames, looking

Past chat rooms and forums, how freakishly

Macabre modern day media pertains, remaining

Stagnant like mosquitoes in murky puddles.

Hearing distant family members bickering,

The siblings arguing over what television

Station to flip over to onward, I miss the

Inclusivity, no matter the quarrels, but digitalization

Pertains to all of my hours, that turn the pages,

As preliminary winds accelerate away adolescence,

When flies extend their limbs, add silicone,

Endorphins, and THC, metaphysical

Plastic exhausted butterflies, that taper to the

Swinging fan of remaining relevant over

Swarming tides, the ultimate Darwinist competition.
The hazy white noise that the html pages

Electrify my circuits, a patronizing achoo that

Stimulates neuronal receptors,

As I look in the mirror, I no longer appear

With an exaggerated identity, features

Unifying into similar splotches of pigment

To mend into the background of a genetic

Painting. I reach for the brow bone as chunks

Of meat cascade to the floor, revealing

An upheaval of transcending wires,

That leave ajar the dislocation, a stranger

Going to abduct a resting babe.

Instinctively, the shock insists to dig deeper,

Infringing a forthcoming grave,

Mercury trudges up my esophagus,

Climbing down the mantlepiece of my

Disastrous chin, revealing arrow keys, mismatched

Panelling,
Lenses olly to the back of my hard drive, to be

Fixated into webcams and flashbulbs.

Scurrying away is a motive disarrayed,

My knees buckling and thighs folding in,

A pathetic lawn chair, shrinking,

Shriveling, to suppose if maggots were

Ripping away feathers, beaks, loose

Dangling coverts,

Paralysis, a numbing teratogen, an

Addiction, leaves to let self-imploding

Habitual pastimes become emblems of

Metaphorical life, forevermore.

Motionless, a search engine, to find the

Upcoming opposition, bystander, spectator,

My grasp makes one final courtesy,

Mending at the rectangular padded chamber,

Fix me, reboot me, restart me, delete me.
Burn me, alternate me, render me, render me.

Those illiterate rebuttals, waterworks

Pipelining my tear ducts, hopefully

Mandating my obsessions.
I aspired to be the routine.

Normal is an understatement for a

Life sentence.
Regretting immensely, the deed of wanting more,

My water glass remaining half full.