Tempus Fuckit


By the actuarial tables I have another five years.

The next new moon is three weeks away.

My son is almost 31.

I can’t recall what model year my Toyota is.

A peregrine falcon can dive at 240 mph

which annihilates time. It’s almost dusk.


Are days just parallel scratches on a jail-cell wall?

How many moons to a century?

There must be a language with no word for time

just for the steps of its passing.

The future has no memories

which is why we want to go there.


If there are black holes in space

there must be black holes in time to welcome us.