complete - nonsense

"Etherized upon a table"

I
In a mechanical routine the birds sing and the wind blows; its six'O clock. The same thought repeats itself; before the brain went numb, with the realization that it wasnt rightly done. One shoe is still upside down, the socks are on the floor, the empty bottles next to the bed; and eyes still red. A leap out of the bed and into the world; the birds chirp and mourn. The car cranks alive. The old man in wheelchair by the mailbox looks emptily into the empty world. A school bus in the front that always stops. And never enough time for the breakfast.

II
The machines mourn, and cry as I, Once more, am surrounded by
the faces of wood, who bear the archaic smiles; with the work piled on the desk; the coffee mug empty, and the eyes still red.
The hour glass freezes; the death is delayed: the eyes from their sockets, behind the smiles, observe the devotion, as the sacrifice is brought on the altar of silicon to the gods of finance with a smile. The subtle glances of mercy at the clock are not answered, until it is time. The man by the computer looks emptily into the empty world.

III
The birds sing, and the wind still blows, far away in the land of the alive, in the dim shadows of the lamp lights. I sit here, on the table for two, after raising the question, like a dead body is raised from its coffin to fulfill some court’s ruling: hoping it’s not what I know - its not what I have always known. The wood has rotted, and the smile has faded: the question has been answered. Now my eyes are fixed on the empty glass, as I look emptily into the empty world.