The present is a sociopath
if you really think about it,
how it cooly collateralizes
everything that’s ever happened.
Did you move on so soon?
Cross a rubicon? Go electric?
Success and successive are nearly the same word
and my dear friend was your wreckage.
Where did you leave him
— Nebraska? Colorado? —
practically stripped for parts on a roadside farm….
Don’t answer. There were more of him.
We are all like him.
