My Past Tense Life, hmmm
My past-tense life, full of dangling participles, A closet full of un-done novels, waiting for their final edit. Shoe laces frayed from long gone hide and seeks. Again, again, I see it all, stinging the air in front of my eyes; Cracking, shattering, splitting, fading, Finally the here and now again. I see it all. I do from time to time, I conjure up an arrow, cat gut pulling— Don’t let me go! I see my flabbergasted sinews dangling loose, Their life swooshing toward some unknown target. No bulls eye here for me! Should I have stayed with that simple dartboard after all? Well, now here I am, a feather for a friend, Sinking into a spring-green branch. What time is it anyway? ‘63 in Paris? Or Milan in ‘71? Why drag that blackened coal-shoot past Into this sparkling, solar-driven day? It’s time to let those finite multi-sided polygons Leap for their circles at last!