Kit Kelen #1393 - a machine which cannot tell the time

1393

a machine which cannot tell the time

today we are allergic to bread

wilt from the sun

all our own work

I’ve read in here

often we’ll catch fire

all pace is possible

sometimes turn to stone

I call them dags

at a sheep’s end

so come dreaming

and duck

large bird

from branches

a disentangle

has pages like the sky

turn to

high in the tops

have read leaves

where clouds took

call quits

there is no corner of it says to brighten or

but beyond the edges – day and night

in green of the unseen

the feeling for a pulse

nothing makes tick

have learnt not to listen

I have heard there is a machine

cannot tell the time

someone haunts these for the facts last lost

yet called away

the kenneled graph

bear bull

have read in here of somewhen once

rare and precious thing

remembered where I am so why

there is no corner of it tells

someone flies into and sting!

drive a truck through

no matter

will, won’t it?

not for quids!

takes as long as it likes

and with some urgency

the pyre and burn

it’s how hate goes

this one kills fascists too