“There’s no time,” she said,
“Any moment now will be
the too-late moment.”
“Can’t we tell
ahead of time?” I said.
“Don’t be an idiot,” she said
“Well,” I said, “that certainly
narrows down the possibilities,
with idiot ruled out.”
“Now you’re just being a jerk.”
“What, that’s not allowed either?”
I sit at a table riddled with worm holes,
As manufactured as the chained and slashed
Surface on which I write, burn marks
Sealed in polyurethane gloss, all for
A borrowed twilight, an impermanence
Enshrined for eternity, or as near it
As artifice can come, fuzz-box guitar
Scratching through the conditioned air.
Outside, the latest mercury vapor lamps
Dressed up gassy, the rhythmic flicker
Punctuating the entrance, everywhere
Authenticity for sale, at a premium.
I examine my coffee, dubiously.
Missed deadline —
robins have eaten
all the berries
The wind blows
I blow back
Was that a shrug?
In the box
Schrödinger’s cat wonders
Is the old man still alive?