Monologue?
tock continues to tick and takes this train
hostage; loops, speeds, nearly tips
the conductor hangs with one hand
Gripping the footplate for dear life,
the other clutching the hijacker’s arm
in hopes of drawing enough blood that they’d have
no other choice but to stop.
but to no avail
the train derails and falls to a cavernous abyss.
the one once in charge of the train
Laid in pieces at the bottom by a cypress tree.
ticks teemed on the wrist draining blood with each
snail of a second
veins caved in, eyes sunk by anchors of
Time
Then, a twit twit twitter bangs the drum
a woodpecker in the peripheral and, not too long
after, a hummingbird clear against the silhouette of the moon