Movement

it is time to slide wonkily downhill
denim bottoms fraying fashionably
rickety rocks kissing ass

it is time for the tinniness of time to
say in its tangy voice
that a floor-door has opened

on to the next
cubicle of time
where an accountant stares

and a computer rusts
and dust rests
and the only movement is you

having fallen frayed bottom-first
exploding with the old
transforming 4 walls

to 5.
the old is like a wind
to the stone-still new

and now it is time again
for a new old and the same old
still new.