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Tangled Time
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And Time Goes By This morning, the future arrived.
Inevitably, dawn drags on
in the light of once-great neons,
while old forty-fives play
"Send in the Clowns."
This day will suffice itself
like a tranquilizer
melting on an anxious tongue.
Like sour cream and coffee,
time curdles;
silver threads among the gold.
I lean out my mind's window,
and try to remember the past.
