Master of Time

In the orange night

I can’t remember how to be born

I take off running with a flashlight

With no instructions but the night before

Twist my ankle on the molehill

Got no closer to the watershed

In the shadow of the poison mill

Now I remember what I can’t forget

And I walk with my water

I talk to my cat

I start to think

No one would believe that

But then I close my eyes

Suddenly I am the master of time

But I am no old master

I’m an amateur phenomenological spell caster

And I’m taking notes

Shortened by the breath of my century

With nothing good to memorize

I tuck my shadows round behind me

Carve my initials and the sidewalk’s mine

But it’s cruel

Like being caught sneaking into a hotel pool

How the molehill grows despite all that we know

Still I can close my eyes

Suddenly I am the master of time

But I am no old master

I’m an amateur phenomenological spell caster

And I’m taking notes

I’m taking notes