A COUPS DE POURQUOI

Time waiting
like a lowly servant
coughing politely every

now and then
to remind them that
ahem...the world is...waiting

their *******
laughing
"So, let it...wait!"

the world tapping a toe
impatiently
eyes turned up to Heaven

Time
shrugging its shoulders
in a "what-can-I do" way

she laughs
at her and him
( it was always her and him )

puppets now
of the imagination
memory's home movie

Time's revenge
remembering how it had been
now how

the train hurtles
through a darkness
her reflection made of night

and cold glass
hung there
suspended

staring into her own
crying eyes
knowing it could

never last what
a fool she'd been
she scorned herself

she this
living
painting of the past

Reality
once again
getting the upper hand

Time and the World
put in their place
the expensive meal

uneaten on the plate
the ship leaving
the town behind

slowly so
reluctant
to do so

before distance
and the dark
take control

'til the town too
is nothing but a memory
hostage to the past

Jacques Brel's voice
lost inside her head
"...a coups de pourquoi..."

now, here,
somewhere
in mid-Atlantic

she finds herself
in the middle of nowhere
the middle of nowhere

exactly
where she
wanted to be

"oublier le temps
oublier le temps
oublier le temps."