>improv for adam, pt. 1 092320101355


It’s been so long since Time has escaped into loss
watching everything from a priori eyes, he’s free
of course, to bolt when the guard ducks beside the 
bush to bust high scores in tetris, which, bloodshot, he frequently does. 
Time tells monster stories, Time sucks at Marlboro 100s, Time eats red meat
until its veins run through his teeth; Time drags his muddy ear through the street.
The dismissed guard was always a great misdirection for Time, nothing more
than the cardsharp’s oily trick of light, a demoralized casualty of causality, albeit 
an interesting chord, he was nothing more than a sour afterthought 
on a tongue with a strict predilection for very sweet things like jelly rings.
But, he came looking for Time.

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