Wayne Mason

The egg has been rotten for years now
 
and really, which is more destructive
 
rotten soul
 
gray space
 
or
 
pl
 
um
 
me
 
ti
 
ng
 
e
 
g
 
g
 
 
sun sets on suburbs
 
u.v. rays of stagnant waiting
 
exhaling reasonable destruction
 
inhaling souls
 
oxidizing the cancer of purgatoria
 
swallowing the sun in the horizon
 
patience is a lost virtue

Down Assembly lines
 
people fussing
 
barely audible over
 
dry humping of
 
machinery
 
Dull metallic beat
machines of labor
amid tick tock tick
of the time clock crawling
through gray recesses
 
between dusk and dawn
Another wasted night
industrial America
while you talk in yr sleep
next to empty pillows
 
I’m here