from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (50)
time does not flow forward it folds and turns
as mind rattles from thought to thought like rain
drops into puddles making the water
wetter as it vanishes from itself
.
the flow turns inward like the subduction
of one tectonic plate to another
it circles back in an eddy’s slow twirl
until its start is lost within its end
.
time takes its time to tell what time it is
what with the past’s present nature
contending with the present’s obsession
with tomorrow’s constant unravelling
.
then quite suddenly it’s no longer there
like your last stagnant puff of fetid air
(April 9, 2020)
subtext 