Poem - Now

Hey.

Here's a new (new to non-Patreon folk) poem.  If you sign up NOW and become a patron for as little as a buck a month, you get all kinds of daily stuff...and SOMETHING SECRET AND AWESOME will be announced August 1st to you first!

NOW

The web of flesh

between my thumb

and index finger

is a reset button. I pinch

and press it when overwhelmed by

the hazards of memory, the persistence

and manufacture of future time .

There's pain. Kind which slams shut the book of distant daydream.

A second passes. No poems are written.

No elegies of the past held.

Every fiber on my skin yearns for a signal.

Unprotected, eager, accepting each new force

without coveting.