we humans have no sense of time
i mean, we haven't developed the bell curve
for the map of aging
how you grow
and learn how to manage mortality
become a better person
that can number things in order
until the line starts to curve in on itself
and then we are teenagers for the rest of our lives.
pubescent little terds
but with babies who need us to keep things racked.
and house paint
that comes with electric bills
all those garages for our crap
we must be afraid of it
I have epoch in my day alone.
time for flame
for fathom
for the pot to boil
for plant to sit or swing
time for laziness
so much time for that
time for vanity
time for tightening up
time for worry scramble
and time for avoidance
some voids
clearly caked by bad food choice
and online television.
time to read three thousand pages of
trashy novel
to go with the door open.
pray quiet and curse loud
time for dingy music over paper
to prepare time like chicken stock
getting thicker over the minute
sweet salted butter of day
would break you all out in hives.
No comments:
Post a Comment