Santa Cruz and the Clocks of Salvador Dalí
©2004 Aaron Anderson
all my clocks are wrong
I leave at 9:45,
arrive at 9:58,
and step out into 9:46
this city sucks everything in
spits it all out
and eats it again
time does not bend here
does not stop
the clocks fuck up, stop,
melt
the minds of my friends
have fucked up, melted,
failed them us
this city is a few degrees warmer
wax melts at room temperature
wax sculptures,
my friends laid down their guns
have quit trying
to understand the nightmare of economics
have quit trying
the clocks do not melt
my friends,
defenseless,
cannot even find them
slowly cultivating addictions
to apathy, to melting clocks,
surrealism
“YOUR LUCKY NUMBERS”
©2004 Aaron Anderson
Torture centers: salad days
muggers and drug dealers
A vibrant young woman—her torso was found
Agents business suits
pregnant in her third trimester
Finally, the grim discovery: a listless economy
an early-to-bed teetotaling president
Richmond has murders every week,
and those figures are expected to rise
Evelyn Hernandez was pregnant with a second child
Agent Orange
Pakistan, Zimbabwe, Iran, China, Malaysia, Japan, Britain, Vietnam,
Ethiopia, Sudan and Germany
an apocalyptic landscape of pitch-black hallways, sagging ceilings and empty
chasms
the U.S. military
“shackled, belly-chained and escorted by two deputies,”
the most innocent of victims.
“Our greatest hope” would have been
CRAWFORD, Texas—
the recovery of a body
DNA tests just after Labor Day,
U.S. air strikes
half-eaten food
vague threats curious missions
murder charges
love notes from German women
five Palestinians killed
After weeks of claims to the contrary,
No arrests have been made.
[click to view introduction]