Time drips slowly as clouds pull into spots

scattered among the blueblack lot. Drip

drip drip drip drip drip it pours

out of faucets thrashing over cliffs chip chip

chipping away smoothing clogging suffocating

the pores beneath the eyes. Everything

is fleeting in perpetuum yet nothing

ever ends ever begins ever ends ever begins. Endless

songs are sung throughout the ages repeating

word for word for word for word forwards and backwards

the same old thing. Newness a concept to those

with hope a dream to those who dream. Nothing

changes underneath the changing skin

of rocks and grass and dirt and seeds and

blooming lycoris disguised as acne pockmarked

across the poisoned poppies. The same old thing.

Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. Life goes

on and on and on and on and death goes on and nothing

ever changes. The same old chirps of adolescent crickets

dance and sway and chirp and chirp and chirp and chirp

in unison forever drowning out the midnight blossom. Flooding

flowing basins sneak around the vibrations. Take them.

Take them. Take them. Take them home

to meet the writer of their never-changing lives.