An Oven Timer Beeping

The world is static charged, windy, wild, forlorn and mired, enlarged in theory but shrunk in motive force.

The world is tipped in orbit, spanned, spun, backwards run, uneven to God yet quite level to us.

The world is an oven timer, a Christmas light, a chipped knife, a leaky bucket, a stuck trapdoor, a rotting floor, a coaster stuck to the bottom of a glass.

The world is an old tree stump, a road bump, a Coke and Rum.
The world is a waiting room patient whose time has come.

-Saturday, December Twenty-third, 2006