beat the clock

I was trying to save time. I ate
the canned soup. I bought my panic in bulk.
I outran the moon, she couldn’t keep up.
I doubled my body. We worked as a pair.
We velcro’d our sneakers. We cut our own hair.

While frothing the solvent of business and pleasure,
I got pulled over for texting and driving,
pausing the mindfulness podcast on 2x speed.

“Sir,
    you need
        to slow down

            Now.”

I’m trying to make time. I’m
      s  t  r  e  t  c  h  i  n  g
a minute
      like a ham hock in greens.
I’m walking.
    I’m talking.
I’m reading out loud. Stepping
      out of the office
        and into the river (there is
only one). Steeping
mint that I swiped
    from the Garden of Eden.
Folding the batter
    of motion
      and stillness.

      It’s three minutes
    to midnight:
do you know where your breath is right

            Now?

How many heartbeats escape your attention?
    The space in between them:
      does that count as

            Death?

I made some time,
for you.
Here,
take it.
Open the box
    that contains a box
      that contains a box
        that contains a box
          that contains
your candle,
lit at both ends.

      Blow it out.

        Breathe it in.

          Now,
            cough.