Nonlinear time is full of non-linear thoughts time is breaking a glass at Amsterdam's vowing never to return time is listening to Stan Getz's sax wailing "Blood Count" while Billy Strayhorn was dying He too is dead now of cancer After the thunderstorm time is an abrupt departure time is buying a pair of sunflowers violently decapitated from the root carrying yellow petals in the subway People smiling. Yet. We are all dying. Flowers and Men. Dying. time is losing loneliness in your eyes once more time is passing out in the cold with the heart burning wanting to die to prove a sharp point time is the warmth of an embrace the need to touch and be touched time is the dance the closeness the parting and the carress time is drinking chasers at five greeting the day with alcohol for blood and smoke for lungs time is a shadow that follows in the dark time is watching the other's eyes without a word say No. Withdraw. Pause. Silence. Bleed. Cry. Bleed. Silence. "I am Sebastian come back from the dead" time is constantly fearing the aching emptiness of a void knowing it cannot be filled time is stretching into infinity ever expanding time is sipping a coffee in front of the Cathedral wishing for pastis instead time is you holding a peach rose at Marvin Gardens the first time we went out on my thirty-first birthday time is emptying three bottles of red Jadot time is a twitching young sparrow at first flight crashing into glass its ribs broken shattered its mother is somewhere mourning time is groping for words writing in the mind the sensations of present and past time is a hysterical phone call at midnight time is circular with no end and no beginning time is an island on the sixth floor of P&S "It's a safe environment here," so the doctors say "It's an artificial antiseptic environment here," so I say The windows, the mirrors are plastic. The television screen is plastic. Everything is plastic Dammit, time is Unreal. No reasons. No razors. No glass. time is trembling with the letter at St. John the Divine hopelessly hoping in the place of hope where darkness and space cannot see tears time is chanting "pincers, pincers" time is hearing other peoples' cry rising children asking why So young. So old. Existence bidding adieu. time is finding peace in a stoop on Claremont holding back awhile the tears that later freely flowed time is thinking of the door we never opened into Eliot's rose garden time is a constant search for meaning time is a mark on your breast a scar from childhood, you said time is lining up seventeen pills with seventeen shots of Cuervo debating Hamlet's dilemma time is covering your face with your hair you are doing it again time is the last time I saw you time is emotions gone awry All heart. No mind. Can I ever trust it again time is Gilgamesh asking "Is darkness far away?" "Is there much light left?" time is sitting on the steps where it all began time is throwing up on Christmas eve time is spreading colored dust on the carpet drawing madly irises and tulips and strange boats ending with fuchsia time is not a decision but a movement time is remembering everything all at once time is chasing a reality that remains forever a dream time is sleeping with the moon streaking through the sky with open eyes thinking why time is a cool exterior with fragments of glass jabbing inside. Breaking. Building. Breaking. time is reading lifelines with knees bent in prayer doubling back memories time is a fast forward smile into old age time is finding things in wrong places hearing "I love you" from the wrong person Forgetting. Being forgotten. time is remembering the promise never to say those same words time is a footprint in the rain time is decomposing into a hydrogen atom or is it a molecule getting ready given time to be the matrix of life time is walking aimlessly in Harlem waiting for a mugger's knife time is drizzling into the skin time is light fading and eighteen candles burning Descartes pondering his "being" there time is Jerzy Kosinski in the bathtub with a bag on his head Surreal novel I understand according to the medical examiner cause of death: "Drugs and Alcohol" time is rebuilding walls hiding in a seashell lying to the therapist that bastard who put me in Everything is okay Let me out, please. Let me out. I must make a party. time is a snowing of queen anne's lace petals falling on the table with no sound time is a sunset perpetually reborn as day time is accepting the things I cannot change time is a look and a smile a goodbye and a hello and a good- bye time is leaving behind a strand of red hair. Yours.