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letra de clockwork ink - glassbooks

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you returned from where the water begins
and your face was viscously dripping from your chin
or were you just waiving your painting?

the artist is sick of expression
quick, swim in the innocuous rhythm of weather
and find your very own nook
in the tessellated air created for the statist’s time constraints
to lightly tear apart the painting

ambitions of colouring black holes
caved under the weight
of wet clothing dripping its dye
monochromatic face
oh, didn’t you know
the watchmaker washes his clothes more than his clocks
his minute universеs pass their time corroding

in time thе money makers will sink
pedestrians into the ice rink
when the beating drums of bottled water come crashing down on us

sarcasm was never my strong point
but you’re looking pretty good
with a weight strapped to each joint, aren’t you?
are you a testament to the modern truth?

ambitions of colouring black holes
caved under the weight
of wet clothing dripping its dye
monochromatic face

you said “don’t you know?”
the watchmaker washes his clothes more than his clocks
his minute universes all cry, corroding
oh, don’t you know?
i wash my clothes more than my clocks
and i am not marred by that pegasus

[?], oh no
[?], oh no
where are the kids?
where are the watercolours?

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