As time trickles through the Chambre des Deputes
The tendrils of my nose crinkle at its acrid passage
Time empties out the notion of authenticity
Time, you are a nervous imposter
You can remake yourself in the blink of an eye
Rodin pestering Phidias, Nestor attesting to glory
Time loves the one who knows love
I guess you had better guide me through the ropes
I dreamed a white robe walking to Morgantown
My broken watch weeps in a false spring
I wake bound to the railroad tracks
Emily Bronte sitting beside me on a wasp nest
We wait inconsolably in our vast ardor
As time trickles through an excess of small delays

Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
Jeffrey Cyphers Wright is a longtime East Village resident and author of 11 books of verse. He plays music, makes collages and writes criticism regularly for Artnexus and The Brooklyn Rail. More irregularly, he publishes Live Mag! http://www.livemagnyc.com