Two Truths About Time

A pair of comments you may not have considered before

Poet Robert Sund (RIP) and author circa 1968

I Decided

That

I’d simply

Live forever

Which would give

Me

Plenty of time

To write poems.

If I lived

Forever,

There’d be

No end

To the poems

I’d be able to

Write.

Somehow,

Though,

Some

Small

Part of the plan

Seemed flawed.

So

I’m jotting

Down a few poems

Right now,

Just in case,

You know?

If All Time Really Occurs Simultaneously

Then:

James Dean walks along the wet gutter

Up Broadway, while my fish tank hums,

And a train goes by, everywhere

And my mother, sober, says she loves me

And bumps against a wall, drunk,

And dying from cancer,

On her death bed,

Blinks her eyes,

Unable to lose that stare,

The look of a small, wild creature

Trapped and

Finished.

**********************************************

(These poems appeared previously on Medium, but deserve this
second or third look)

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