Any Time But Now
For a year now (Perhaps it’s more. It’s hard to say now that time and promises are no longer a sustainable thing) my still tender boy heart has been attacked by the the Pamplona stampede of news stories punishing bills the taunting of age the ongoing quarrel with darkness the plaintive wail of solitude the forever lost days The drinking The binging and the longing for a time which is any time but now. Add to that my phone which I stare at endlessly like it’s my prom date the minute that her lace gown and corsage landed at her ankles on the floor of a Hyatt And that’s when the Jenga blocks collapse. And down the rabbit hole I go just like Alice Until tarts and tea parties and puddles of tears float me back to the top where once again I dream the dreams Of the Mad Hatter.