Poetry

My time is measured in chunks

Categories of meaning

Decades and eras

Movements and moments

Remember the 80s?

No. Not really.

Like, remember that time

I was obsessed with that

Movie?

And the 60s was utopia

And we followed that band

13 concerts or so?

Oh, to be

so…

…Curious…

…And…

…Categorically elusive.

Or at least, that’s what

We told ourselves.

And then,

The five year mistake

Is a whisper of a memory

A lesson in failure

Test of strength.

I’ll never get that time back

(Or my dignity.)

I can measure my time

In pieces

Bits and bytes

And bites and bits

Meaninglessness strung together

A cohesive whole.

Someday,

today will be the day.

Vintage and hip.

And we won’t have to

Buy new clothes

That year.

That is me

almost remembering

I think it was

Sometime in the oughts?

As in, I oughtn’t have done that,

Maybe. Or, maybe

It doesn’t matter

In the grand scheme of things.

Standard