Never such a moment as this
love like a candle too quickly spent
we sleep in each other’s arms
no longer aware of the other’s life
she dreams, I suppose,
of yesterdays as if they were now
and I too dream
but mine of tomorrow
rising in the east
thinking the world is still on fire
we dream together
as if we know each other’s soul
as if we were alive
in the afterlife of home.

How fast tormentors
become tormented ones
their whips meant only
for some other backs
are turned against themselves
the crows that mob the owl
are eaten by the waiting hawks.
And so it goes wherever they feed
their food, once sweet,
is bitter in their mouths.
It is the justice of the moth and flame
and how the merchants of Babylon
stood back, weeping and mourning,
to watch their city die.

In the neverworld of sleep
in the luminous darkness
of our dreams
without a seeming theme
disconnected, Incoherent 
but still familiar
in their way--

Here an old friend
riding on a bicycle
with concrete wheels;

There an acrobat
flying between two lives
on flaming wings;

Somewhere a gilded snake 
spelling our names
in cursive crawls;

Oh, what a life we have
that leads to convoluted dreams
of a neverworld
more real than ours.

If this be not I
then why am I not
what I seem
and how should I be
the way you wish
not I
as if I could be
other than
the I I am?

Perhaps it would
be better
to have had
another soul
another mind
existence in 
another world
inhabited by others
of another kind

Perhaps
but I could never be
brother to a snail
or king 
of a nation of rats
not I
whomever you see
not I

If this be not I
then what
do you see
that is not me?

Time has no shape, no meaning
other than itself
without a beginning, no end,
no detectible line
from here to there
as if flies just like a crow
with a destination and a home.

Time on a clock
is measured in seconds, minutes
and hours
always clockwise as if it had
a circular face
as if it returned to its home
again and again
repeating itself
singing the same old song
of eight o’clock, nine and ten.

Time is
time was
time will never be
the same
as it decides.

It is four o’clock
somewhere, not here.