in the silent night
there is the muffled

whirring of machines

in the distance rotating

the stars

and below the earth
there is a clicking

of gears for the cleaning

of water

and chemical filtering
and so on

then the parasitic slugs
they go crawling around

towards the clocks all ticking

and i know this night is
not silent

the sounds and sights you
thought were queer

once

as a child

have now all
faded away by virtue of
their own monotony

you let the colors dull

then blend together

the cities get eaten

by the dirt but you
keep moving
lost in the reptition
and build building on top of building

and the stars
and the tick
tick
tocking

the abundance of the ticks
diminishing the value
of the individual
blurring together until
you can’t feel the difference
between

seconds and minutes

minutes and hours

dreams and crisp air.