The Ancient Modern
Timing / Joshua Alan Sturgill
I always come back
to that time, to
that-one-time-that-I
because my brain
is like my father
kneading the dough
to make potato candy
my brain collects
what happened
what I wish
and nothing
merely mundane
in its bowl, and kneads them
and Behold!
that-one-time-that-I
(or we or they)
which, til now,
I thought I’d forgotten
emerges fresh
from want and memory
sweet and cut carefully
and arranged
with a completion
the past always waits for.
You know so much
is left out of the story
but this is the way
we will tell it now
baked until tender
rough skins discarded
only the warm flesh
and powdered sugar
mixed thoroughly
(a fork is best)
kneaded until smooth and firm
rolled flat
spread with peanut butter
rolled up, cut in pieces
that one time,
remember?
a History