Hindsight

Hindsight
by Timothy Reed


"hindsight is twenty-twenty"

but memory is a Cubist
that cannot record fact
without interpretation

Dali's clock melts for, of course,
time has lost its good name

Hindsight is something,
but the perfection of memory
has betrayed us.

the facade has fallen.
tidy Grecian lines
give way to tangled ink
fubsy, basal fingerprints

time, life, the mind
favor those who begin again

He 

favors those who 
trust, trust, trust

Monochrome

Monochrome

by Timothy Reed

I am surveilled by

dour dames and dukes

(self-ascribed titles)

forever an alien -

societal, perpetual peasant

wondering when life 

was stripped of color,

flavor,

and why thirst for these qualities

has made me a pariah

Yet....

I will not beg monochrome bread.

Let me die an urchin

but a lover of life,

and spite that shell of mankind

entombed in pristine manors

dining on preserved dreams

(dry as bones)

and diluted, dishwasher tea

Eden

Eden 

by Timothy Reed

to say we live is a farce.

we wait with borrowed breath

a stone's throw from Eden

Thought-paths

Thought-paths

by Timothy Reed

“Say what you’re thinking “

But how could I?

Now miles stretch long

and cliff-hands drag paths

Down, down, down

dead ends and detours. 

cliffs may as well be kings

Distance ever grows

Between head and heart

my mouth is a faraway moon

destinations are not always intended.

There. I said it.