By B.K.
Date: 2020 Sep 08
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The Absence of Ambience

The silence of three am
Devoid of life insanity
Airplanes grounded
Fog lies low to ground
Money machine is melting
Like a Dali painting
I hesitate to turn on music
Seems the only way
To silence the mind
Stop the ever-present
If only what if  why
Think of the lovely
Crazy clock that chimes
Out of sequence
The aliens waiting to land
Be sure to mention the Zebras
And that I never loved you anyway
Then tell the moon goodnight for the millionth time
Damn that book take that bow
Then blow a kiss to quiet of four fifteen

the eighth of september twenty twenty

four am