In 15 minute increments I chart
my life of late – the circle is a chain
of dashing lines. For every job gets part
of me, with darts that sculpt my aging brain,
and I’m at run unbalanced on a beam
of task and trouble, managing on nerve
alone, and calendaring every dream –
the polygon begins to show a curve.

I’m dot-to-dot and listing while the world
around me seems to limp in lethargy.
Aware how squared my future is I’m hurled
into the city energy. I see
relentless days elapse. I’m trying not
to waste them but in haste I near forgot.