All of time is happening at once.
I am forever sharing that awkward first car ride.
Knees bumping in the dark.

All of time is happening at once.
I am still sitting on that couch
stealing glances at tattooed covered arms
from across the room, wanting them wrapped
around the small of my back.

All of time is happening at once.
I am forever at the tip of your tongue
Syllables echoing like the Big Bang.

"--you know, I've either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and
the time to
create."
no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you're on
welfare,
you're going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you're going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.