too slow

Angel comes round the corner
wilted, rapidly deflating

this night is going soooooooo
slow

he says
gesturing grandly to the clock

says it's not even seven yet
i eye the prized

clock cocking my head
watching for shifts in

Angel as he readjusts
his bearings learning

the true time
twenty after seven

and sudden quick-drive
of being thrown forward

through your life
one whole hour

the dismay dawning,
this night

he says
is going tooooo

fast
and now [like

now and always]
i'm behind