There is not enough time.
The days are too quick
and the nights are not long enough
for me, there is not enough time.

There is too much traffic,
too many assignments and details,
too much talk,
too many distractions
and inducements, always wanting to be proud,
too many crooks with credibility,
too few thought meaningful clowns,
there is too much to do,
and not enough time.

The seasons change quickly
and then I die.
In this regard I
am clairvoyant, I can see the future
of my dramatic screaming theater,
penchant for grandiose proportion,
all the people shouting from mountaintops
in unison,
“There is not enough time.
There is not enough time.”

There are too many televisions
and play stations
and too few teachers
who work for nothing
pushing raindrops
on street corners,
telling us to trade cars
for sunshine, because they know
there is not enough time.

I once saw an elephant
riding a fire quilt of chained ant
as a chariot to the power of kingdoms
and more timeless.
Yet too I witnessed liberty,
I watched songbirds
deconstruct basic human sensibilities
with unwritten rhymes,
but I never sold sunshine-
not enough time.

I don’t want to stop here,
while I am changing so much,
still unformed without mold or principle
and so akin to simple diction,
dying for the dead,
and dancing upon cemeteries
against an endless backdrop of night
where there is not enough time.

The problem
is that I do know where to look
for what it is
I want to find.
When I think of
Nothing
written as a motion picture
that ends where it begins-
it was never divined-
the universe itself came to mind:
there was not enough time.

And there is not enough time,
not enough time,
not enough
time.

(01.14.08)