14 July

we are both inconsiderate
we attribute the same meaning
to each second
maybe only because it lasts the same amount of time as the next

we are both incapable
we cannot define what is defining
from moment to moment to moment
and they pass and they come and
all in retrospect

we are both incompetent
we cannot understand the significance
or insignificance of what we are doing
like an old man repeating someone else's job
without realizing this direction is useless


we are both ignorant
we are unaware of the past, present, or future
like bleeding watercolors that mix
unintentionally on a blank canvas

we are both inept
we work and work and work
but never have anything to show for it
not exactly, like a scale tipped toward one extreme
a single note on a keyboard among 88 and
averting the endless possibilities for harmony

we are both impulsive
we think this moment is real
and whatever we want extends into truth
and that it is convenient so it is right
or that it is easy so it must be fate