Tuesday, December 27, 2022

THE TIME BEING

Perhaps 
the past 

is a strike-anywhere 
matchstick 

crammed inside its 
stiff little box. 
And 

the future is 
pure sandpaper—

or the grainy 
brick mortar 

just waiting 
to annihilate it.
And you—you're 

the addict, 
with his sulfur-

tinged nostrils and
nicotine fingers 

who delights 
at how quick 

and how hot 
and spectacularly 

the two come together  
to engender 
the fire 

which you jones
to take hold of 

and hold deep 
inside you 

before setting 
loose to get 
lost in the world—

every time 
anything 

happens 
at all.