Machine for Time
This watch is full of
nothing but time.
Time.
And memories.
Time to give fate
a head fake
and a head shake.
And then it mislead the other day.
But I misspoke
when I said to myself it was broken.
It simply imagined it tried to stop.
It was trying to provide
a suspended animation.
The void.
Ah, yes.
The ultimate opportunity.
So now I stand with this wreck
and try to remember what has been,
unaided.
If I can remember,
what more can I do?
Now I stare in wonderment
and blink,
as I do each time I make a spoken word mistake.
If ever so briefly,
it seems I then can block out the sun.
I ask not of the dead past.
I ask of the living past.
Indistinct thoughts
unable to be articulated.
Like the recognition of one wild animal for another
Perhaps belladonna will ease my way
When it seems time has run on out,
it simply means the fight must go on.
There is yet time on the clock.