Mercer's Poems

This right here. 
That is now history. 
This is now. 
No, it’s history too. 
What about now? Is now now?
Nope, sorry, now has been and gone. 
Passed into past. 
What was now is now then.
Well what about now then?
Nope, past too. 
Well when will now be now!?
How soon!?
No, just then. 

Each tick the clock’s hand slaps the face of the present
sending it flying back into the past. 
And with its other hand, ushers in the future
proclaims it the King of now with a crown of cloud
and as fast as the future arrives, its crown evaporates 
and it’s slapped into history.

The fractal spiral of time is too confusing for me. 
Washing over us like a backwards river 
swelling tides of events flow from the ocean of potential 
to the minute tributaries and springs of recorded past. 
While man marks it with arbitrary meter. 
There is no time. What was has gone, what is is going and what will will go. 
All we have is now. 
No now!
Just then?
Fuck it. 
Smash your watch, 
turn off the alarm, 
delete the clock function on your phone
put a square over the time on your computer screen
and if they put a clock on your TV switch it off. 
Now is now and it’s all we have. 
and all we’ll ever have. 
Don’t worry about then. 
Don’t plan for soon. 
Just be now.