My poem: time
Jul. 24th, 2025 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapiThe prompt is 'time.'
At 10:13, be kind. Smile at the FedEx man,
the one from the day before yesterday,
and greet him like that friend you never see.
At 9:12, contemplate some art. Look at Whistler’s fireworks, bookmark
The Gentle Art of Making Enemies,
indulge in a longing to sink bare toes in grass
but make do with fondly remembering
a butterfly.
At 3:09, kindly tell past regret and future dread
to fuck off. Take a nap.
At 2:17, wipe the toilet seat.
Put that thing back where it belongs. Practice
until perfect. Once more. Again.
At 12:04, make that joke, the one about the Virgin Mary,
and swallow a crust of fossilized cringe.
At 12:31, listen to the Koto Song,
contemplate the precise moment of death,
and eat some gummy worms, in that order.
At 9:01, be great. At everything.
And wear it on your sleeve.
At 10:13, be kind. Smile at the FedEx man,
the one from the day before yesterday,
and greet him like that friend you never see.
At 9:12, contemplate some art. Look at Whistler’s fireworks, bookmark
The Gentle Art of Making Enemies,
indulge in a longing to sink bare toes in grass
but make do with fondly remembering
a butterfly.
At 3:09, kindly tell past regret and future dread
to fuck off. Take a nap.
At 2:17, wipe the toilet seat.
Put that thing back where it belongs. Practice
until perfect. Once more. Again.
At 12:04, make that joke, the one about the Virgin Mary,
and swallow a crust of fossilized cringe.
At 12:31, listen to the Koto Song,
contemplate the precise moment of death,
and eat some gummy worms, in that order.
At 9:01, be great. At everything.
And wear it on your sleeve.