Time's not a thing, it's a
procedure
and it
proceeds—to pin
everyone
down to everywhere.
It's a war
marching
out from
and into everything,
sneaking past customs,
roughing
the passer, fleeing restaurants
without paying
for dinner. It always fires
the first shot,
which inevitably punctures
a hole in the very last sack of flour.
With that same kind
of maniacal
tyranny of the majority, it fixes it
so that someone
is always "there
first," which is why I never
really feel
like I'm accurate or
authentically
sitting next to her.
