There Is No Present Time

People talk about time,

Yes. It blows my mind.

They talk future and past,

How one didn’t last.

Present, they misunderstand.

Present, the thinnest slice

I’ve ever known, or shown

How fast it dies, or flies,

While the ‘baby’ cries.

What we call present,

Is either the latest past,

Or earliest future. Surely,

There’s no demarcation.

We are confused

With ethnic groups, nation-states,

And no one talks, nation.

We have present year.

Bombed into present fear,

The present presents a problem.

If I ask you the time,

You hear it in your mind,

Then your response is defined.

By the time you answer,

Letting your response fly,

The time I asked for the time,

Has already gone by.

181017 George Mac D Lynch