Canarsie

90 minutes
60 if caught just right
120 for a variety of reasons
It has been 180 but it snowed that day
Peace found in minutes
The struggle becomes companionship when left in time plus volume of occupancy
The changing of companions on this caravan
Lights
Announcements
Smells unwanted then
Found with gratitude
Be it homeless to
fresh soap and hand lotion with
Over perfumed on the right
Then wet dog to the left Now pizza
bread
or maybe brown bag groceries
All
Conjure thoughts of covered wagons and green pastures in this travel
Like a dream it melts into
Movies of future warriors battling for unclaimed turf
So those minutes become irrelevant
Senses to busy to fully be weighed by the time
Only if it were exact
Precise in every day
Would all these treasures pass me by
Tonight it looks like it might be 120 minutes
But I have two lovers happy in my eyesight
As I smell a fresh slice from the young lady cracking gum across from me
I will take it in and forget the minutes
And
Be home just in time
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