Poem: Move But Don’t


Do nothing.

I know it is hard—

but hold fast—

To nothing at all.

The time is dire—

The time is now—

To cease—

To fail to do much of anything.

The funny game—

Of time ill spent—

Is the sudden,

The violent,

Way that time stacks on itself.

What an arbitrary thing, time,

That it likes to make me late,

On time,

And without much to do—

All in the span of the day.

I’d say it was fucking with me.

But time is not an enemy.

It is only a thing,

Of which we are all paid some meager sum.

Special thanks to: Bob GerkinCollin PearmanDylan AlexanderJerry Banfield, and Michael The Comic Nerd. 

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