Listening to the Alarm Clock

 

The clock spoke to me

early this morning

insistent really

said that yesterday, that

yesterday is my greatest influence

wait…

My mind stalled…an instant…a

decade:

memory projects a movie

click, click, click; old 8 millimeter

thrown hard against

cinder block walls

behind my eyelids…

why?

Why is yesterday so muscular…so mean, so

strident when right now

right now

right now I look toward

tomorrow.

I’m half sad, all confused…

why can’t tomorrow be my

muse,

influence,

master…why

should I listen to who I used to be;

the man

I was, even…

even if who I was

was only

five minutes

ago… twenty years…damn!

Ignore the clock, I say, pretend the

somber

repetitive

restrictive words

don’t exist, don’t

mean anything.

The movie plays on…meaning,

telling me;

a beginning…

a middle and

an end.

I cannot have tomorrow

without

yesterday.

I want it

but…can’t…but;

I can create in today

(something

an idea…a life

that didn’t exist

yesterday)

so

the alarm clock

has something new

to tell me

tomorrow.

I will wait

to wake up

to see…to hear…to be

who I am

then.

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