Tag: Possibility

• Possibilities

  

  I’m here texting you 

  at 1 am, wondering if

  the time and space 

  that separates us 

  means anything. 

  I have Gin Blossoms playing 

  on my old Macintosh 

  and you’re probably 

  listening to Hunter Hayes 

  or some other

  modern sensation. We’re different, 

  but placed at this point 

  in time, in these circumstances for

  an unseen reason, and I can’t 

  help but wonder if in 

  another world where time flows 

  backward, and eventide 

  brings its hushed whispers 

  and sober greys at some odd hour 

  we’d have a Benjamin Button 

  romance: geriatric, calloused

  hand holding preceding 

  a horrible, middle-aged hebetude

  when each day ends with a smoke 

  and a shot of whiskey leading to

  an effervescent twenties, 

  the wisdom of age losing its vigour,

  recklessness and nonconformity 

  making us think of spliffs, 

  tattoos and muscle, 

  sex appeal and metal

  while silver becomes off-white 

  and then a blazing red

  as we dance to the rhythm 

  of music that plays backwards, 

  speaking English that sounds like

  Pig Latin, but is really a language 

  slicing air with its strange 

  consonants and harsh syllables 

  while it drifts backwards 

  with time, the weird aubade

  occurring when it shouldn’t.

  As my thoughts weave a web, 

  catching these concepts barely, 

  I wonder if this is all there is, 

  and what could 

  simply could, but won’t, 

  and whether what would matters

  on what I say to you, 

  or what you say when you 

  don’t speak, or is simply 

  another way of saying what will. 

  June 19, 2023

  creative writing, friendship, life, love, pain, Poems, poetry, Possibility, sci fi

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