Strobe in the Hall - Electric Bard

"Strobe in the Hall. Strobe in the Hall." Three seventeen on the digital display beside the bed A dozen disconnected arguments colliding in the head The hallway bulb is flickering, a seizure in the shade Staring at the yellow grease-mark that the kettle made Did I leave the stove pilot running in the scullery room? Step across the fifth floorboard to bypass the boom A receipt for two brass hinges from a month ago Lying on the sideboard where the mail begins to grow Why did I look away when you asked me for the plain truth? Wasting all my energy on justifying wasted youth The baseboard has a gap where the winter breeze can seep My nervous system treats the midnight like an enemy of sleep Flicker On The Baseboard, Shudder In The Frame Running Through The Catalog Of Undelivered Blame Pacing Out The Restless Void, Tracking Every Wire Feeding Insomnia With Every Small Desire "Strobe in the Hall. Strobe in the Hall." A screwdriver sits beside the telephone stand I pick it up and weigh the plastic handle in the hand The urge to strip the casing off the toaster on the shelf Anything to circumvent the reckoning of self You turned your shoulder to the wall when I came up the stair Leaving sixty miles of desert in the bedroom air The radiator clanks with a sudden iron ring Startling a spider crawling up a picture string I check the front door latch, then I check the deadbolt twice Listening to the freezer trays accumulating ice Can't switch the channel off. The dials are stuck. Seven screens running all at once. One with the argument. One with the unpaid bill. One with your eyes looking straight through me. Flicker On The Baseboard, Shudder In The Frame Running Through The Catalog Of Undelivered Blame Pacing Out The Restless Void, Tracking Every Wire Feeding Insomnia With Every Small Desire Dawn is coming anyway.