This is the moment Tolle exalts
Unconcerned with directions
Left, past, right, future
Full stop center in linear
A chronology we don't trust
I'm bullseye center
In the shadow of I Am That I Am
Happy to be there
Aching wrist holding this iPhone still
While my numb left pointer taps
The tiny letters and the long harmed f space
Clicking these incomprehensible words
As gallons and gallons of race be
Pour  from selfish yet hursting bags of water
Lightning flashes brilliant illumination
On the center of the spiral
The black hole is surely out of our reach
The exhaustion of trying to edplain
Sends me to the kitchen in hopes of finding an orange
Or pickle juice in lieu of apple and salt