Aetas

By created chance you were given to me.

Post-its and arm written notes gracing every

second to the whole of the swinging arm.

Some weren't as lucky as most I know,

for they were lost to be in a vault of triggers.

Ding! Moments meshing mindlessly to master

the scheduled skepticism skulking around.

If only that seven were an eight

and that twenty-four a five at its end,

but that is too much to ask.

Rearrange the universe and make

My heavens perfect.

Recycle what mass is necessary

in order to have my fulfillment.

I live in anthropocentric space

and I choose it.

I grasp it.

But I lose it.

Declined. Done deal. Connect the damn dots.

Here's your seven, take back twenty-four.

You will be supplied and consoled.

From a blink to your life, you'll tick on.

You are given devices to seek simple samples.

Just do what you'll do and plan with the phases.

You have plenty of time; more time then

you'll ever know.

Build, for your riches await.