The Hot Place

Give me time.
Oh please, just give me some time.
I need some time, more time than needed.
I will not push that forward button.
I will not pound that button for nothing.
I see its silver small knob bell for the ringing.
Stop the second hand, you know the feeling.
Suspend that bastardly tick of the fucking seconds.
I want to smash the black and white ticking
Nobody else understands the clicking.


When the increments are slow
So slow that soothing vibration
That hum of the urgency dulls to a whisper
That feeling of no white rabbits running alarming
It’s not like medicine or tarot card reading
It’s not like mere music or tearing of timecards
But like prolonged showered hot water soothing
And floating on bubbled wet porcelain couch cradle
And everything slows without missing a meeting.


Nothing will miss a heartbeat.
No damage to great art meets.
This does not hurt the great cosmic of business.
Flow charts will not suffer
And political still offers
The grand vision of scheming is not less powered by this.