Something Else Broken

Something Else Broken

I dreamt I slept in a field of amputees.

Holding up white hospital sheets, I block the view.

Nothing like this will greet you when you awaken.

I dreamt I wrestled with base mechanics

while a line formed of everyone you knew;

they filed past you, watering at the eyes,

and kissing your forehead like a pope.

 

The human clock is not inaccurate

Twenty-four-point-two hours built into every brain

Biology got it right on that part

But the rest is something else broken

 

I read every sign along the avenue.

Considering clouds, I said, “No rain today. No rain.”

You think, you say, “I feel like I just moved here. 

I don’t know anyone. I don’t know anything.”

 

The human clock is not inaccurate

Twenty-four-point-two hours built into every, every, every brain

Biology got it right on that part

But the rest it is, the rest it is something else broken

The rest it is something else broken

 

(Life Underwater Music, 1999)

James O'Brien