I see it often, daily hourly minute by minute people
living tomorrow today, and
it’s sad watching, like bad Mexican TV in a dingy hotel room somewhere
in Croatia. I watch them miss breathing this minute in the hopes of catching
their breath later, in the hopes
in the hopes
that’s where they live and it’s painful
sad dreary moving slow it’s the milk running down the side
of the glass, it’s the
fist light through slowly opening eyelids on a morning after
the night before…
when today, this minute…now…is the thing, is
the breath to take, to live in, to see with open and bright
wonder, to embrace running slow-motion love on the beach and
crescendo music swelling background
montage good-bad TV…it is who we are when we are
ourselves and let go
of fear..of…
who we were if we were to be anyone
tomorrow.

I see it often and sadly I think, sadly I think…and
that’s it, that’s the rub, that’s the detail that stands out, that
invokes the TV show music in the background;
the more we live in tomorrow, the less we live today and the less
we live today the less
we live…because…
tomorrow
doesn’t
exist.