Time's Elastic Slab Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Time, elastic slab
on a bridge without arches.
No flowers standing

on sprained shaky rails,
where the sun crawls and rolls,
tires too close to feet.

Creeping crowd crams space.
Moments trudge, stone shoes
without tight-lipped studs.

Midget seconds growl,
snailing along stiff blade edge
bleeding a little.

On the duck back deck
passers-by wear webbed feet,
paddling through knot-blood,

when rays spill red bays,
pot holes homes to stretched-out lakes,
swallowing loud boots.

(ii)

Sun rides bicycle,
throwing spoked circles winding
knots grown bolts on brakes.

Waiting stretches pools,
hook string too short to catch trout
slipping off to sink.

How many times have
I sunk in hooting; train burnt
by dimmed postponement?

Brook of waiting croons
into river of sighs; birds
fly out, broken wings,

as river stretches
on, drowning horned stones and stomps,
where trees sang through storm.

When train blazes through,
fire ignites a storm wave,
goat bleating "for beasts",

as iced slab river
stretches back, on which bench doves
break spines singing knots.

Song bird mimics notes
to the hand plucking time strings,
bridge slab collapsing.

(iii)

Passengers drown, lake,
rising stormy river stone.
Darted stares, cliff climbed,

as eyes build smooth slab.
Newspapers and novels tramp
through hooting smoke's tail,

where wait's fire burns bones
into ashes, and sunflower
flames grind sighs through soot.

Blind readers blink, sink
under the stars of choked hoot,
bridge tumbling over.