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Eleven O' Clock
Hour and second hands
losing weight,
spread out and regurgitate
bones cramped
atoms clanging together from the caffeine
we are robots
running machines
to turn tea into Pythagorean theorems
and coffee into old dreams
Tick, two more years
Tick, your hand passed mine at six
we got hooked on competition,
the fear,
that chemical fix
tipped the scales in my favor
you fell below the line, hopeless addict
who needs drugs anyway?
when I’ve got your favor-
it-itch in my head
persistent tic, scratching, snipping away
Insanity is
my favorite espresso flavor
today.

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