T∞m∞rr∞w and T∞m∞rr∞w and T∞m∞rr∞w

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

My Charles is yesterday.   He hit the wall

Of God at 90 miles per hour.  That time,

His time, our time is more like angels’ fall

And lasts forever now, a timeless crime.

That yesterday is all tomorrows now

Though all these other days are not true days.

Tomorrows here on out are like die Frau

Mit Kohleintopf.  They are polluted haze

Stretched out across a starless universe.

A vast Black Hole has gobbled down the stars,

Or, . . .  rather, . . . vac . . . u . . . um, —  eternal —, terse,

Is what remains “now,” lacking even scars.

  Now and nows are gone.  They never will

    Return.  Death’s whale has swallowed all that krill.

©  Phillip Whidden