Ecclesiastes

Meaning
taunts as it blurs
in the eyes
of us farsighted ones
and runs lithely away with the smirk
of a little boy who just pinched
a sensitive sister.

We chase it
with the paralysis that freezes us in dreams
moving nowhere in our flailing, floating
falling chaos
until we are no longer pursuers,
but the pursued.

Time grabs with grimy hands,
roughly etching wrinkles,
sucking color and strength,
curses ours to claim.
Our name is shame
so we must sign a pseudonym.

The sun cycle of chase and die
never gifts us variation,
only a bland groan,
the yawn of a man
waking up to find himself alone;
despite desires gorged and glutted,
every day it means
less.

2012