Before I hit a nerve,
I thought I could swerve.
Out of it's way, on to the curb
The bus came, and under I went.
To see the lies that hit most of us like
cosmic stuff and other junk.
It hit me once or maybe twice,
to think things over it could be nice.
Most experience at a young age,
comes along with blocks of age,
The ice that seems to so frozen in time,
and holds no shame, to envison the twine.
The line that seperated me from time,
is now the anchor to my fantasy.
The then and the now seem to enter-twine
as the number nine repeats.
The zone of time
time and space
May have at first glance
seemed meaningless,
But now I find
the two are enter-twined.
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Chauncey DeVega
Mary Stanik
ManhattanWhiteGirl
odetteroulette
Judy Mandelbaum
Sarah Khan
Salon.com
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