Those days now seem as archaic as the antediluvians
As passé as Picts
As anachronistic as Amenhotep
So, I wish the entropy of time would wither my recollections
But mementoes of conflicts ignore the second law
The memories remain fresh …
Too fresh
Those days I was always outside
Hoping someone would invite me in
Which would, at least, mark a certain progress
But I was invisible; a denizen of London Below
Those days I wore a mask
Hid behind a nom de guerre
Spoke sotto voce to obfuscate
But anonymity fails when everyone knows who you are
Those days I told myself I’d move on, that time was on my side
Now scars mean my psyche barely twitches
Emotional fibrosis transfigures smiles into grimaces
Longevity stagnates into physiological sclerosis
I can barely crawl across time’s mat
As day-by-day my life’s dohyō shrinks
Mark Greener
.