2.23.2023

I reach out compulsively towards it whatever it is

Always I've been fixed on what comes next 
what might be arriving or be on its way 
next and after next and subsequent to that 
 
but now it's gotten out of hand pathetic 
nearly pathological I reach out compulsively 
towards it whatever it is dwell on it and 
 
not just dwell but allow myself to be bound 
by it or in it I enter this "next" as into 
some elaborate structure where I imagine 
 
a nest in which one might repose and ponder 
except I don't ponder I generate thoughts 
whose shape I'm unable to determine so I'm left 
 
with next only next in which I move purpose to 
purpose while knowing I'm only keeping track 
that my future tense is dissolving even as I watch 
 

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