Another Clockwork Day

For the second time this week, he plugs in the external drive He clicks through his archive to find a folder he needs He knows this path well He was bored with himself Tired of routine Free live cams left him limp The sounds of commerce, a complete turn-off And the films these days With their surgery scars and bad tats And it's all stepmoms and stepsisters now What the f*ck's all that about? So there's another clockwork day Of worn-out love and waning clay The last awake, a door shut time So ends another clockwork night No, he needed something real And now he knows where to find it IMG4329, the flushed flesh of new love in summer The couples drawn, the sun secluded and a gift that fits IMG4378, fastening the strap of a sharpened shoe on a hotel table The puckish promise of a bended knee IMG4398, a borrowed hoodie and a bruised thigh The absent eyes of afternoon afterglow and the suspense of more to come IMG4457, wearing nothing but a new postcode Statuesque on bedspread plinth and reddened room As family smiles from fresh IKEA frames IMG4564, the sleeping venus in a half-painted kitchen As hopeful spermatozoa race to an ovum's open arms IMG4382, an internet closeup of a solitary act Sent like a love letter long, long ago Secretly sated once again He softly ascends to the bedroom And slept gently undercovers To join a snoring spouse In the almost dark she's hardly aged a day When he removes his glasses She looks just the same she does in the pixels of those old jpegs Those low res memories, buried in folders within folders