[just keep saying no to me]

and everything up to this moment,
up to this poem,
up to this word, has become the past,
and what’s left is almost but
not quite
what matters
what’s left is the present and
still
the future is waiting
and still
the future is wasted
and once you’ve learned to crawl
there’s never anywhere left
for you to go but down
up to this poem,
up to this word, has become the past,
and what’s left is almost but
not quite
what matters
what’s left is the present and
still
the future is waiting
and still
the future is wasted
and once you’ve learned to crawl
there’s never anywhere left
for you to go but down
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.