my alarm clock
is an expanding device. there are 
red numbers written in the bellies 
of green frogs & raccoons. i open 
a door to find great rattling.
i have five more minutes before
the sun puts a hand over my mouth.
when all other forms of self defense fail
i advocate for biting. i bit 
my alarm clock so it hissed 
& slithered between a crack 
in reality. sometimes i cut my fingernails
over the toilet & each falling nail 
smiles back up at me. toothy smiles.
tomorrow the world will be too late
& the alarm clock will arrive 
gold & loose. what will we do 
with all our 30 seconds. i have 
a tendency to know when the alarm will come
even if i'm just laying in bed 
& watching the arms of the ceiling fan 
become the tentacles of an octopus.
there are minutes with their digits
in my spine. i have a red number
burning & eager beneath my tongue.
what time will you give yourself
to open like a moon lily each & every day?
i am a hurried bone. i am the worst kind of root.
in another life, used to wake up naturally.
there was no where to go. i was a simple person
& everyday i woke to find 
rosemary & calendula growing 
beneath my body. if i dig in the earth 
i would find tiny soft unripe numbers
waiting to be mornings. i'd give them
water & salt & wedding rings. a precious medal 
will alter your life. all my rings
leave my fingers green. in the sky 
a clock looms & explain that there
is only so much time left
for me to plant the eggs in the soot.
a fire burns & eats only the faces 
of flowers. a lantern asks 
for a number & i drop a "5" writte non 
a piece of paper in the flame.
what will we do with the ash?
a snow storm is easily mistaken 
for communication with god. each flake
is in fact a number. everything is red
if you get close enough. ripe numbers
in the crisper. frozen numbers in the freezer.
june with a finger in july with a finger
in autumn. an alarm clock 
dangling from the ceiling of a cave.
another one in the closet, perched 
on a pair of my shoes: mouth open 
sound coming, sound arriving. 
my hands over my ears
i say, yes i know don't. 

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