Time Keeps on Slip’n: A Poem

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By Josh Darling

 

Do, do, do, doot…

It starts in a grocery store.

You’ll be standing there,

innocently,

trying to figure out:

Colgate or Aqua Fresh,

and in the periphery,

time travel happens,

lurking like a rapist with an erection at a playground.

Do, do, do, doot…

Steve Miller.

He knew what he was doing,

with his space/time,

continuum propaganda.

You don’t know who he is?

He’s the man who knew time was circular,

just like his song,

a never-ending circle jerk of slipping in to the past of the future.

Do, do, do, doot…

The music keeps slipping into the past.

And why fly like a greasy eagle?

They’re slow compared to jets.

Do we have to glide into the future,

as a semi endangered species?

And why to the sea?

“‘till [you’re] free?”

Because time keeps slipping into delicious 2% homogeny.

Do, do, do, doot…

Feel that awesome groove, man?

The capacitor doesn’t need flux,

or 1.21 gigawatts.

The secret to time travel,

is in the band’s (grape) jam,

and listening to the Steve Miller Band,

you can travel,

aging like cheese and slipping into the future of suburban utopia.

Do, do, do, doot…

To fold time and space,

you must be omnipresent,

Steve Miller knew this.

His work as a quantum physicist

focused on plurality.

The Steve Miller of March ‘77,

travels to grocery stores

throughout America, haunting them like a taco fart in a car.

Do, do, do, doot…

There is no escape from his,

slippin’, slippin’, slippin’, slippin’,

whispered in your ear,

like an Imp,

trying to convince you to go all in

on a suicide pact,

while deciding:

original or crispy flavor, with wings or without, razor blades or hollow points.

Do, do, do, doot…

Keyboard solo out.

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