Counting Time

I saved up my breath for this, like a penny jar miser assured they would never be ludicrously spent,

only to die with a jar full of pennies in the end.

I discounted hiccups,

wrote tickets.

Added and subtracted if only to beat the lonely droll.

Anonymous street corner observations

turned calculations ran timeless golden circles in my mind.

Gross over-compensation

and ever restricting self-medication aimed at forgetting it all.

I'm taking down all of this as an over-head future projectionist,

a natural born pessimist

unable to glean out the proper steps.

Dog days went un-tallied, fictitious sweet

in the moments before they stole back the street.

Prior collective assumptions were shown to be flimsy, ineffectual.

Collections of nothings, our path's all too annular.

One day came a silent sun,

toxic flow on towards heartbreak horizon.

Awakened by indicative nightmare sweat, 

impending belly knot,

an undefined horror tangled in the back of our heads.

Ignorant to the booby-trap no one ran

uptown clampdown,

giving way to anesthetic trance-fer to the mind pound.

Here we blindly feed on 

otherworldly precedent, pre-packaged life.

Mediocrity,

tv,

and impending loss of sight.

While proper love loss goes unobserved.   

I saved up my breath for this,

like someone would have listened-

like the pennies would glisten then attain real worth.

Like their zinc-copper lies would come clean,

then return back to earth.

But my meticulous tallies went unused,

the widening gap by-product an imagined black hole and masochistic practice in mental self-abuse.

Now, any martyr is as hollow 

as a wheaties box idol,

just another face being used.

Universal score keeper

now down trodden county teacher,

stupidity's dearest and most recent muse.

If we could all save up our selfishness,

pile up and bury our former tiresome drives.

Perhaps if we all held our breath for a moment,

we would stop living as doom creatures devaluing one another's lives.