Stakka Bo

This time, time has built a nest in me.
The seconds before seem to
have set themselves free.
But I have to come to terms
with my mortgagee,
cus time is like a permanent guest within me.
This time time refuses to rest in me.
The seconds before seem to have set
themselves free.
But I don't feel too bad with my company,
cus time is like a permanent guest within me.
The seconds before
used to mean all to me.
The seconds before,
more than what was to be.
The cars in advance of
"Sharks" on Discovery.
Hunger for my noodles when I'm
late on delivery,
like the calm to precede our
electric eruptions,
the diffusing of scents just
before the seduction.
Like cosmically coming
before we get to heaven,
or a good game of tetris
on level eleven.
Turning off the iron
on my way of vacation.
Always anticipating anticipation,
but then we crossed the line
and moments just arrived
without the seconds
from which the spirit was derived.
I guess boredom is the sustenance
to be held above.
It enhances the value of those seconds I loved.
The seconds before
used to mean all to me.
This time, time has built a nest in me.
The seconds before seem to
have set themselves free.
But I have to come to terms
with my mortgagee,
cus time is like a permanent guest within me.
This time time refuses to rest in me.
The seconds before seem to have set
themselves free.
But I don't feel too bad with my company,
cus time is like a permanent guest within me.
The seconds before
were the seconds to wait for.
The seconds before
were the the seconds I paid for.
Now somebody swapped them
for that void I'm in after.