Now

once a time no longer ago than now not future perfect but its imperfection’s past down the river of flowing present relatively just past the future not when, when why is what needs answering yet who’d care where it was or whence it shall have been not I for sure for despite all I am, all I can do is think therefore I am physically limited these thoughts that stop and start and end not yet begun and yet long considered, that mind of mine is in ill repair, unhealthily reconstructing what was there before, obliging nothing. and so I spiral in swirling tides that ebb and flow and slowly grind rocky thoughts to ideas concepts, hypotheses and more thoughts that paddle me through the storms of ‘Now’