AN INSTANT IN TIME

The only time that’s real

Lasts but a millisecond.

It’s the here and now,

So brief it can’t be reckoned.

All else is past and future

That stretch to God knows where.

What does this insight mean?

Fuck all, I do declare!

REAMING OUT THE GARAGE

The garage is a handy place

To store some stuff away.

Things still in working order

That have seen a better day!

Old toys and appliances,

Clothes no more in style,

Tennis togs and scuba gear,

Unused for quite a while!

Travel souvenirs,

Tires and party games,

Hobby kits, puzzle bits,

Albums and picture frames.

Items of little value

Evoke ‘I remember when.’

Clutter of the now

Recalls a joyful then.

The garage is full of junk.

So we’re reaming out, you see,

A storage shed of memories.

To house an SUV!

THE BLANK PAGE

Here I am a-staring

At my blank computer screen,

What am I about to type?

What yet hasn’t been?

That’s the wonder of it all:

When the day is o’er

Something new has been created,

A work unknown before.

It may be only rubbish,

A silly childish rhyme,

But it’s an addition to the universe,

A product of its time.

Where does the impulse come from?

Another world some say.

But I am the agent;

I am the modeler’s clay.

It’s my raison d’être.

The meaning of my life.

In my dotage I have found

An antidote to strife.