The hour approaches... 
clinging to the bricks, 
emanating, its aura of  indigo, 
its inevitable stain, its trembling violet 
humming bird's rush against the glass of heaven 
a frenzy, collapsing upon itself.. 

She climbs up five flights of stairs, strips 
off her crumpled shirt 
Staring 
out of her apartment... 
clutching at thin slices of sky 

It is, the fatal hour… on sidewalks 
Bloated beer cans lie adrift like the dead 
The trees of winter shiver, bone naked in the wind 

Grinning, the monkey clocks 
whirl, ruthless, the hourglass drums 
as night steals the crumbs of sky from her 
Endless transactions through mediums of steel 
are humming in her head... 

Slip, stub, ticket, token, thank you. Next. 
The numbers twirl like batons 
Shatter forever 
China doll of her face 
To the mirror she is stunned. Silent. But 

Trembling on her tongue 
are words unsaid 
Ciphers of the moment struck 
On shifting sands. 
 

*A "damaru" or "duggduggee", the double sided hourglass drum is commonly used in the subcontinent by traveling "tamashas" or spectacles usually involving animals such as monkeys, bears as well as the snake and mongoose, traditional enemies that are equally matched. The damaru is also the symbol of Shiva, Lord of Time.