A string
Between three falling
Anchors
Is the day unmedicated.
Hours tick deeper
Ticking into night’s submergence of stars
Becoming a plastic bag
Around my child head
An utter terror of
Tomorrow’s triggered
Sky fall: cement
The busy blood
The clock of walking people
Walking too fast.
I flip the light switch
Eleven times before bed
Every night or else.
Coleman Bomar is a writer who currently resides in Middle Tennessee. His works have been featured by and/or are forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys, Plum Tree Tavern, Prometheus Dreaming, SOFTBLOW, Eunoia Review, Beyond Words, Bewildering Stories, Isacoustic, Moonpark Review, Maudlin House, Star 82 Review, Boston Literary Magazine, Cathexis Northwest, Nine Muses Poetry and more.
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