Sedimentary Stone
As all things erode,
Stacking sediments of stone
Crumble so quickly.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Alarm Clock
The alarm clock sings
Guttural, dissonant tones
Of the dream's decay.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Fan
The blades of the fan
Must always spin in circles.
Am I like the fan?
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Weight of Ink
The ink in notebooks
Makes them almost heavier,
Almost hard to hold.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Contemplation
Another headache.
When I think about thinking,
I think I think less.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Language
Words fall on paper
As printed symbols, not as
What they really mean.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Money
A wad of dirty,
Green paper in the pocket,
Soaked in nervous sweat.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Detune
Relax the strings.
I want to detune my head.
I've been too high strung.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Work
Time is money, so
Sell your soul for a profit.
Then you can buy things.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Green Tea
The hot water pours
And each sugar cube and leaf
Dissolves, disappears.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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