the Notes and Scratches

City of Egg Timers

Summer falls into an autumn
beset by frost suddenly.
Cross it off. Another to-do list
abandoned unfinished.

I live in a city of egg timers
buzzing incessantly
I live with a sickly devotion
that’s now in remission.

I’m tossing matchsticks into a teacup.
They pop and spark and hiss and go out.
An overcast sky is a promise,
a hope, but for what?

My lips linger on airports and
tow trucks and vending machines.
Cash out. My ledger’s full
of half-assed apologies

I’ll deny it if you’re right.
Then I’ll keep quiet for awhile.
Flashbacks thick on hazy nights.
I’d forgive this given time.