Trapping Time

It's with decision that I put the lid on time Sitting with all my might Calling you over with heavy appliances, washing machines, refrigerators, piling them up on my lap as time bumps upward and threatens to throw me off. "Bring me the heavy machinery!" You hauling chains, greased, slippery with bulldozers and front loaders ripping up floor boards behind you. "On my lap! On my lap!", I scream over the noise of time. You can barely see my eye whites between the coils, cogs, bolts and metal and yet I'm still yelling: "More! We need MORE!" You, running with tired legs, veins pumping purple and roped around calves, using crowbars to lift buildings up by their foundation, concrete dust for city blocks Towing them on the back of semi's with headlights glowing angry at the weight "Just pile them here - Quick Quick!" (Time changing strategy with slippery fingers making their way paper thin under all sides of the lid) You, exhausted, crumpled in a heap on the floor with an apologetic look in your eyes at an inability to bring me even a feather's weight more. Me, with the instant knowledge that no amount of weight will work, suddenly screaming to you: "Run! Don't look back!! RUN!!!" It's with a sense of relief that I see the soles of your feet clear the door just as time explodes: lodging buildings in trees, heavy machinery engines in clouds, sinking refrigerators to the sea, and leaving me in a wake of old. Time, as free as it should rightly be, smiles a winner's smile as it puts the lid on me.