I would give everything to time,
but time would not agree––
we have no longstanding agreement.
And even if we did, the best I could hope for
would be detente, backed by miracle drugs
that promise to slow assured destruction.
There never is a war waged with the uncaring,
there is only digging in against attrition––
entropic flurries, masked degeneration.
I weave and warp the processes
to my will somehow, channel fear through observation––
and time creeps hard behind, gaining.
* Really find it stupid to have to put my name (Damon Shulenberger, repeated for SEO reasons) here but Google still does not connect the endurancewriter site with my name, after several months of endurance writer (SEO variant :) posts.