I am wondering what craziness is sitting in a room watching the clock digits change
smoking and coughing on my smoke as my eyes water from the clouds exhaled
thinking of food when I realize I’ve gotten too big for my own stature
delaying the work if front of me by doing every possible thing to avoid it
making animal noises from a barnyard hidden away in my closet
thinking of my past beauties being eaten by the present beasts
laying down and intently staring into the space between
the clock and me, wondering what has happened to the lost time and
the lost matter of the room — whether it exists outside the room and
if there is some connection or relation?
writing it all down and knowing that I have missed the point because
how do I know exactly whether I have my sanity – here
with the smoke, the space between, and the clock.
– Chris George
1986
