now is only a skinny-dip away

 

now is always out of time.

can't bum a minute for afterthought. 

can't steal a second's chance.

can't ask for some loose seconds to spare.

now has no audience of it,

no front row seats,

no special passes for pit or backstage,

don't bother with a camera 

or a recoding device,

even experience is unqualified to be there.

how did something so imminently close

become so profoundly far away?

I want to believe it's out there

but I keep stumbling on my method 

of inclusion itself.

I want to take the binoculars of experience.

I want to have memory retention.

I want it to fit into my storied account

but no, nothing of that kind works.

I certainly have a feel for its absence.

maybe that's all pseudo kinesthetic 

but if real was not so burdened with intake,

then now would be more in-me present.

eternity is just an inside joke.

infinity won't even bate me 

with a 'consider this'.

life, as a thought-form, 

is a prosthetic of awareness.

it's like reality is a stand up comic,

with an endless supply 

of one-liners about time.

now is the patron saint of pronto,

the invisible angel of duly present

and the extinct fragrance of timeless.

now is the mirror 

that guarantees no reflection,

that dismisses 

experience's presentation attire,

that calls out to the spirit of me,

before the burden 

of being human addresses.

now may find me endlessly quizzical,

but I find it incredulous but charming.

if I could only take off 

all of the excess of being,

now might turn out to be, 

only a skinny-dip in waiting . . .