Fake Sonnet 1
eyes sit evenly on his face, no mouth
or nose. But as he looks at me I go
into a dark trance and my mind flies south
to the grim past where things were much better.
My brother is a black computer screen--
A Nostradamus mirror. I have seen
the gray past, the future is in a letter
to you and it lies on my desk behind
photos we took together at the beach.
My brother watches and stares to remind
me of my fatal mistakes and with each
second on the clock that tick tock, tick tock
I find myself immersed in writer's block.
34:22
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