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Time takes all from us

on this merry go round ride,

getting nowhere, always passing

 

The same thing twice.

 

As we spin, we decay.

Not like the linear arrow

others thought time to be,

 

But revolutions of seasons,

holidays, birthdays –

spinning faster and farther-

 

the longer we’ve been

sitting on this metal horse.

 

(If you pack yourself

in vinegar, salt, some

spices – would you last

 

forever on a dusty basement

shelf?) The pimply faced

boy will pull the lever,

 

stop the rotation, say

we have to jump down

and climb off the platform,

 

there are others anxious to ride.

 

 

This is Poem #19 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I decided for one year to wake mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee on each day that I didn’t teach. I was working part-time then, so in the end I wrote 241 poems.  These are second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

I appreciate your feedback as these poems are not “finished,” and I intend to go back into many of them in the future.

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