Ghosts
As time slips away falling a pocketful of sand in gravity between my fingers of thumb and memory lost in temporary like a clockwork ticking measured in hours among the stones leaving only dust and schizophrenia with ghosts in my Lenovo as time slips away falling listening to the Rorschach echo, “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick” It is the echo of city, be like that, be like this. As I drift slowly on the narrow streets. The...