Time has a gum-chewing problem
Smacking and smacking
Like lightening cracking
Like a church mother’s hand
To the back of you head
Or a throat that is cleared
Lets you know you are dead

Time has a promise-keeping problem
Always insinuating restful reprieve
Just around the the bent knee
Like a one-night stand
Asking to get paid
Or a coin in the machine
That won’t do what it said

Time has a sick sense of humor
And a rotten right of way
To sing mercy and grace
While prying open your eyes
To watch the year’s long delay
Of the soldiers who were sent
To shield you from an unsafe day