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Stop-Motion

1927
Thu, 16 Apr 2009 at 02:13am

untitled

We live in a strange land of

Stop-motion.

Fractured images of sporadic

Locomotion.

Strings pull on us in between each

Frame,

Tugging our limbs toward lasting

Shame.

We take silly comfort in our

Intent,

But our hands give us cause to

Repent.

We shout at the strings with no

Slack.

This is what they whisper

Back:

Hesitant static.

     Freeze-frame derision.

          Stuttered steps.

               False-pause attrition.

Under the shadow of erratic

Commotion,

We make our splintered way in

Stop-motion.