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