“Now is the envy of all of the dead.”
They’ve tried to package essences:
worlds they’ve seen, words they’ve read,
the activities filling the middle absences.
“Someday, you have to not make a snake boy.”
Someday I will have to not do anything at all.
Someday I will be a red smear in the alloy
that will be the new Earth, a raw burning ball.
“We only appreciate the present when it is past”
even when we inhabit the now before it arrives,
it’s not the same as moving though, having amassed
the memories while knowing that the memories will die.