Member Poem

Mr Time,
May I cure you?
You must be claustrophobic,
Trapped with tunnel view.
Forward, forward, forward-
A bullet, a train; redo?
-“No can do.”

Mr. Time, I’m-
Well-
I’d like to chime
With your prime crime
Of breaking down a moment
Like an enzyme,
Now moments have names
She burned in the flames
At half-past nine
Drinking time-induced wine
Thinking, “This will be fine.”
As the blaze caught the pine
At quarter-past nine.

Thank you, Mr. Time, for giving her a deadline.

Mr. Time,
How does it feel to never die
To never cry
At reaching the end of yourself,
At leaving the life of your shelf
To never ascend into the sky,
Instead to stay on the ground
Known to surround all around
But ironically iron and brassbound
Trapped within your own-
Agonizing ticking sound.

Open wide!
No lid on eyeball, Mr. Time
You’ve seen it all:
You’ve seen the rise
You’ve seen the fall
“Recalcitrant BASTARD!”
You’ve heard them call.

Them at some deathbed
Thinking in their head
What they should have said
What they hadn’t said
Because you
Menacingly moved too fast
And the past couldn’t last
While in contrast
You were harassed
For the number of souls
You amassed
For the number of tolls you
Took were vast
And you watched in dismal silence as
They passed away.

Mr. Time-
You’re not doing any wrong.
You go on and on and on,
Unfazed and withdrawn
Like a stuck Mp3 song,
Oh
The stones at you they threw
For erasing what they drew
For erasing what they knew
For prohibiting a redo
Mr. Time,

May I cure you?