‘Terror From the Alarm Clock’

a squat blue demi-god,
fourteen glowing eyes
at my sleeping feet.
his center eyes move
in slow circles as
his metallic brain
waits eagerly.
sunlight claps him
on the back, and
he shrieks
his metal warcry
alarmed, I lurch
toward the brassy taunt.
I catch him
as he cackles,
smothered, the deity
lies silent —
has won.

Kimbol Soques, 1984-07-19ish

I would have been what, newly sixteen? I spent two(?) weeks that summer in an immersive writing program for high schoolers at Hollins College (Hollinsummer; they had other tracks). That was where I found my voice. And where I found I’m better off writing ‘small.’ In looking for the manuscript for this I ran across my final project for my fiction class… . It was shudder-worthy even then. 

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