Hours in Volumes

*Hours in Volumes*

Days shouldn’t feel this empty.
Sealing capsules without substance lowers already knocked off pedals of will,
halting locomotive chains that were
barely moving anyway.
I’m still expected to approve the dross and waste of a full 24-hour rotation,
and send it out as if completed, and as if ready to begin anew the following day.
How can I? How can one be satisfied with a malfunctioning vacuum of winnowed pieces
that cannot be outplaced?
A Day’s Quality has managed to evaporate once more,
so I must now settle for a quantitative mass-producing of
Hours in Volumes.
Deep-Sixed Ticks rise from a deserted grave
and I succumb to its strangle, Until my body Slumbers,
but No —
I Will Not Rest.

From Art of Mind II: All In
Copyright © 2012 Clyde Aidoo