My alarm clock flickers,
buzzing like a neon sign
in a run-down strip mall.
A red aura, hazardous.
Some days I think it is me
from a past life attempting
to transmit a message
through this frantic
incessant blinking.
I listen to it in the night,
making no effort to transcribe
the hours of dots and dashes.
Even if I knew what it said,
I’d never heed the warning.