Blog Archive

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Relative

Time is relative
when dining with relatives
who voted for Trump.

Or, when working your way
through a ginormous dump
of Algebra on a weekend.

Time fits and starts
like a schoolgirl's heart
with a crush on an inappropriate boy.

It spins like a wind-up toy
and runs down -
a middle-aged mom at bedtime.

Slipping away
by inches -
your child's height surpassing your own.

Time flies.
It flew.
It has flown

through the bones of your fingers.

For Bjorn's prompt at Real Toads

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Killer lines in abundance but the Ginormous dump made me howl.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Time fits and starts like a schoolgirl's heart with a crush on an inappropriate boy... oh yes..!!

brudberg said...

Time is truly relative... but mostly it runs... maybe we need those dinners with relatives voting for Trump (could feel a bit like time travel)

De Jackson said...

The internal rhyme here is fantastic. I LOVE the way that last line spills.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Holy fuck, you're a revelation. Laffed out loud at the first stanza.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Ah, NOW I understand the physics! LOL

Susie Clevenger said...

Love it, especially your opening.

grapeling said...

both sons are now taller than me. I still have them beat in width though. ~

hyperCRYPTICal said...

A brilliant write - love it to bits!
Anna :o]

Frank Hubeny said...

How one experiences time is relative depending on what one's doing or who one is with.

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