Proverbs of Heck (15)

In the proverbial tree, carve your name
and the name of someone you love: that's the start
of a poem but also the start of forgetting.
The present is lost in the anthology
of the future. Time is a reoccurring theme
just look at the clock. Every damn poem's the same.
The eight-legged mind of the octopus knows:
no one is healthy, no one is wealthy,
and almost no one is wise. It's a matter
of perspective: A stitch in the eye stings like hell.
Everything else is arbitrary. The bus
arrives on time or it doesn't. You make it
to work on time or you don't. You climb the tree
you thought you couldn't — only to fall out.