Bowled Over

March 4, 2013

Poem by Jason Pickleman.


Mas issue boundary bowled over 01

Bowled Over

The gradation of the sky
from blue to gray
is in severe contrast
with time’s mark’ed divisions—

those illusive spaces
between seconds
that masquerade
as Pause—

As if time
could be rent
neutered in neutral,
with progress

paused and begun,
paused and begun.

Imagine the earth
turning in kind,

lurching and halting,
lurching and halting.

We’d be thrown to our knees,

repeatedly, like bowling pins,
and re-set,

only to be stricken down again,
and maybe spared.