when there are only
16 hours to wait
everything is
good again,
those 16 hours
feel like 16 days.

two hours of sitting,
watching the clock
debate moving,
knowing i ain’t got
the strength to wait,
but that i ain’t got a choice

facing inward when
i got so little left,
took a shot earlier today
but that’s gone now,
every junkie’s lament,
the point they come for you,
take you away.

assuming the night passes
as they usually do,
(nothing unusual about this at all)
things will go back to normal.
even still, there’s
just no convincing
someone who don’t
want to be convinced
that the wait
is good for a damn thing.
The mind may know that,
but the spirit craves

14 hours now. i’m two hours
stronger coming closer
to my greatest weakness.
Yeah, I’ll wait,
but it’s waiting to do,
not to watch.

14 hours is only like
62 percent of the day,
we can do that standing on our

Well maybe not our heads.
You can do a lot with a
crushed spine.

But not that.

14 hours ain’t that long a wait.
13 and half hours is even less.

11 Responses to “chippin’…”

  1. interesting structure.
    its a good idea

  2. what a very well-written poem… 🙂 good job!

  3. aaahhh… brings out the pain in the waiting…
    i feel a tad of impatience setting in 🙂
    good one there 🙂

  4. Reminds me of Elizabeth Bishop’s work. Love the way you encapsulated the idea of waiting with a slow, unfinished, count down. Kudos.

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