I've looked at this for so long I hate it. So it seems it is as good a time as any to put it out of its misery.
This is:
Time paces
Sometimes there is a hell of a lot of time.
Far too much of it.
Immense plains of time.
To be found bloated in echoing waiting rooms.
The chance embrace at the sand dunes
Has gone,
So move on.
Lord knows, it’s breaking me all up.
Time is not on my side: yet steals nothing.
It paces, tick to tock.
A switchblade of position.
Wound back in typewriter’s bluebottle ribbon.
Struck letter spooled, once hidden
Has gone,
So move on.
Beautiful sadness, it's breaking me up.
Time is no protector, it sanctifies unease.
It’s chewing me up.
We are all done for now.
Cut to the end: all this: the pulpit faced,
Faith with whatever it replaced
Has gone,
So move on.
Shifting sadness, it's breaking me up.
You'll have to wait a while for broken me
A fight to death.
Time will win the last bit of me.
It feels like there should be a chorus now.
Time lined up tick to tock preaches only raw howl:
[optional]
“Time is not on your side”
“Time is not on your side”
“Time is not on your side”
“Time is on
no one’s side”
