01/30 homing in

 a poem by Patrick:

Tick tock on cinderblock

too loud, then not loud at all

second hand jerks, hesitates

a gear grinding its own teeth down

the sound keeps going on

even when you stop hearing it

coffee in a chipped enamel cup

blue rubbed thin

rust breathing through a crack

HOMING IN ON—

letters half there,

half ghost where meaning once was