Moving Time

With shreds and leather bags of purpose,

the air blunders into the future,

as if

that’s the only thing it knows.

Because that’s

the only thing it knows.

Time doesn’t stop when you think it does.

It doesn’t stop when you’re warbled into a moment of precious.

Even when you see a raccoon launch itself onto the road.

It doesn’t even stop when you’re dead.

That’s how superhero it is.

Time? Put me in your moving truck so that I can be superhero with you.

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