Slumber

Glued together with the depths of slumber, shutters
forced

apart.

A gelatinous haze; shutters flutter -
Clarity. Particles coalesce to form a picture,
The familiar morning still-life.

The sloth
shifts slowly
- the soft swish of sheets -
seeking the perfect groove within its white
bed of snakes; is still.

Relish the warmth.

The mechanical monster whirrs into life, his
panic-stricken scream piercing the sultry air.
A startled hand flicks out to smack him, misses, knocks
him across the room.
Still he screams.

The great grub emerges from the chrysalis and
Kicks the offender into silence.

Pin-pricks of ice now felt
on tender molten limbs.
The hulk rests heavily on top of sprawled layers
of wool and cotton interwoven with man-made fibres,
Stuffed with the feathers of a dead bird.
Still-warm comfort, now
Inaccessible.
Finally he straightens and
Rises to begin
The laborious process&;#8230;

Moments, hours, years later,
A sheet of ice slaps me, wallpapers me
As I am ejected into the world.
My exposed flesh is raw, stunned,
White-hot, blue-cold.

One glance at the ticking tormentor
On my wrist - created to make one feel
Old or late or a waste, incongruous somehow -
and I break into a run.
I am late late latelatelatelatelate:
The slap of my feet on the cracks in the pavement
breaks into rhythm with the pounding in my ears and the taunts in my
head,
like some absurd jungle drums.
What is this all for?

I freeze.

I wonder.

I walk slowly, late, uncaring.
The white building looms ahead as I
Blank out.
detached
the pitter-patter of outer voices assail the painstakingly placed white
membrane
It Solidly Stands, Presenting an
Invincible Front.
But when it is unseen, it retreats in weary terror
Twisiting back into its cold white bed of snakes
Peeling off its white skin
Concrete limbs melting s-l-o w l y
into
relief&;#8230;

resume

The abandoned face on the floor
is drilled with thousands
thousands
of tiny white p o r e s