How much time can slip past my aimless mind

as I sit and stare at nothing in particular?

We’re in a vacuum, you and I…

there’s no time anywhere anymore

but for the times that happened

before we were born.

I could make something of myself

if the loose parts of the world could

still be welded and bound together

to create art that someone’s proud of,

if there wasn’t so much happening,

if folks weren’t so angry–

but how dare you say you know how to love at a time like this,

how dare you walk on the sunny side?

I’ll write my magnum opus as soon as

I finish this next episode

if you promise you’ll read it and like it.

I’m addicted to myself, you know.

You are too.

Times like these in a vacuum are

like trying to divide by zero…

Still, someone ought to water the plants,

tend to the garden

so that we might sit quietly and love our patch of earth,

and watch the sun slowly sink beyond the horizon’s veil.