days roaring by like the 1980s / train days weddings parties anything days to pass the time / a gear stuck on saturdays bumbling & roaring / sticky-signalled roadwork delay rays on long doomstruck slow-mo haul days playing on the radio western country tune spiked with cigarette ash / prolapsed economy death march / funeral parades of days past & still passing slowly boom times made of booming days released of their tabloid burdens / set to replay every subterranean bowel-shuddering day courses through the vein but slowly as if it's here to stay or boom slowly in space-like stations selling food or fuel but never both eyes whining like elastic bands but the smoke screens sight with its curling fancies & the gig's up (ended or over / in the same way as animal days fade / & our dusks collapse in a roar or a motorcade
days roaring
This poem was first published in my chapbook Final Friday (2010).