The FAB&PP Poem of the Month for September 2015

we concentrate
on the past as it
whizzes by
     [yeah, it
     does whizz, or
     buzz, or sing
     like a cicada]

forgetting temp
orarily where we
are (thank
goodness) and
ignoring the
     [for which
     we are at least

we dredge and
dig and whisper
to ourselves
     "this can't


it's not

what was now
     into distant

and leaving us
before our mind
can ever catch up

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