Tuesday, January 31, 2012

clock radio


those were the days when time didn't matter.
hands on glowing green
"Blue Car Heaven" now lives on Butterfly Lane.
so how does 'today' exist? decades later?
in one second! (And what does "Heaven" look like
now? perfect teeth? blond curly hair?)

the physicists fumble around with such questions
and time, however trivial, oh sure, there's an
explanation, but how many people can do that
kind of math?

and the sky will have its many moods, to satisfy
eternity and life cycles, faith and fragility, the nervous twins
one forever seeking the other on a continuum.

and the unforeseeable is in play, as always,
but now with more potential for discomfort.
just how many people will scream, "blasphemy" because of
the science? It is an unpredictable number.


always point blank; reality is unforgiving,
and the rules were written long before this latest incarnation.
all the temporal energy is focused on intimate tissue;
ripe; and seen for only two seconds.

(the closing window of time, closing even before you knew it was open)