a stack of moments

I.

catch the lift
of the wave; drift

shore comes too soon
bless you, moon

flatten the hand
smooth the sand

heat, and a drip
sweat on the lip

II.

I want clean floors and to lie down
I should dream
but don’t need anything

so I try to write and
nothing is right
and everything’s great
but give me a break

for what,
to feel?

III.

time as a loaf of bread
come on

this moment is a slice, they say,
different simultaneity if you cut it another way

the past is still with me,
all moments still exist—

(an elegant denial or
a paradigm shift?)

everything gone I still have
all I’ve done I still do

(girl, what matters to you?)

and chaos has its lure
here we’re sharp; here we blur