timeless, caught in a river that won't let go,
keep paddling, push against the tides, and just don't,
for the love of all that's holy,
just don't drown,
fading into an ether made up of
dropped conjugations manipulated to make
time feel present, in the moment,
not quite the past
medi-tated medi-cations,
mindlessly consumed for meaning, memory, madness
when you’re a second off
it still seems like an emergency
trying to careen off the road
to avoid a squirrel that wandered into the middle of the road
to announce something very important,
without being heard
powerful moments blithely remembered at the tip
of the tongue,
yet still forgotten,
still lost in an endless sea(foam green) of memory
washing out, and drowned for the purpose,
the necessity,
of the new,
make it bigger,
make it shinier,
make it glow in the dark,
and maybe give it some bedazzlers to give it some pizzazz
Fred Aiken Writing 