NArratiVe: one

The clock is frozen.
Everything is.

The only movement in the boy's room is the

12: 00
--
12: 00
--
12: 00
--

on his VCR.

'Now is a good time for reflection'
he says.

In reality, it's no different than any other night.

He picks up his pen.

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poem by Thom Isaacson
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Ironic Disposition

Irony’s subtle lessons…
What a joke.
Irony doesn’t know subtlety.
It blatantly beats you senseless…
Mockingly
It revels in your sorrow.
It’s got me on speed dial.

I’ve been playing a song that doesn’t even want to be
Heard.
And it’s given me the music.

The one’s we’re closest to
Are its favorite tools.
It lets your fucking heart bleed all it’s got…
On the wrong altar.

It smirks when you take up that knife,
It knows you can’t.
It shows you a door you’re too smart to open.

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poem by Thom Isaacson
Added by Poetry Lover
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