Any Time But Now

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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.

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