Things need to
get done.
The clock moves
forward, relentlessly,
bleeding from
one hour to
the next.
But everything stops
when I see his
happy face,
even the one
he puts up for
purely illustrative
purposes.
Moment melts
into moment,
stretching apart
like well-loved taffy
and anticipated mozzarella.
A separate world
consisting of
lollipops and pink
frosting and
blocks that turn
into robots
appears
out of nowhere,
reassuring me
that happiness
has no
reason.
(Jan. 7, 2010)
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