Courthouse Clock

1. House Hunting

I want to live in the courthouse clock,
Crouching there under the gnashing gears
That crank the days, blowing hours
Past the world with four slow fans.

2. The Lease Signed

I grow thin, trapped, nibbling on day's dimness,
Filtered through those faces with backwards smiles,
And each night's drink, black as ink, dizzies but
Does not quench, slowing me numbly to sleep.

I wake and wonder who is screaming; time dies
Louder here, thrashing, chewed in bigger bites.
This is a hunger machine, a box of soundless
Breathless mouths of bloodrusty teeth

Grinning me to death.

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