Monday, October 17, 2011

what if you don't have time for it?


my friend leslie, when diagnosed with breast cancer, exclaimed, "i don't have time for this!" a potter with a new studio, she didn't want any interruptions. luckily, the operation a success and she finished her work.  my friend susie had different thoughts, diagnosed with uterine cancer, "suddenly, the passion of my life, the novel i've nursed, didn't seem important at all!" she too recovered, busy at finishing the book.

i keep ransacking my own history to find out what i haven't yet done. when i was a kid, i read a comic where the protagonist sold his time for a nice house, nice kids, nice car. suddenly, he discovered he'd little time left to trade. a very dramatic picture of all those minutes and hours flying away and the desperation on his face, it's stuck with me for sixty years.

time is of the essence. time waits for no one. a stitch in time saves nine. i can't help feeling all of us bear this burden. what cures procrastination? i suppose a close call might: accident, heart, anything threatening our physical existence.

and i'm still suffering from finding all those facts about the body: ten thousand red cells die every second, our blood travels fifty-thousand miles a day, we've ten billion plus neurons in our brain. it assaults any theory of spirituality, any belief in what we do matters. this stuff makes it hard for me to take anything seriously. let's face it, we're all tourists, and we'll visit the catacombs last.

i've just looked through a book on nevada brothels, desert rose by marc mcandrews. for some reason i've always had a fascination with prostitution. when flying to new york, a black guy sat next to me and reveled in his tales of working in a san francisco brothel. and now i can't say, 'why not?' even if i've never dared enter that world. true, working at lake tahoe above the casinos i did write a series of poems about it: www.pbase.com/wwp/gambler



what does this have to do with the passage of time? we're physical beings, animals if you like, and freud right, sex programmed into us in a big way. when walking about we're always on the watch: is it dangerous, can i eat it, will it have sex with me? and how we deal with the opportunities, how we fulfill  the few days that are ours, to deny it seems to throw away whatever lease on life we have.