The Day’s Events
Now that I think about the day’s events,
how temporary my reflections grow!
Eternity refuses to commence.
The latest thing is all I really know.
Habit erases history — and so
I find myself obsessed with things that fade.
Time is an itch to scratch, not honey slow.
My heart is racing just to make the grade
discarded in an hour. Be unafraid,
O soul, of all that flashes on the screen!
Assign it no importance! It’s displayed
in incandescent orange an neon green
only to serve the purpose of distraction
and keep the will from all transcendent action.