---

He looks at his watch as the clock balloons float him over the barren land

But no land is completely barren

Even barren means something

A scrape of desert, a scorching salt flat, a burned forest

Seemingly ugly can be beautiful

Even Texas at twilight

---

There’s a fine mist in the sky

The air is humid, thick, sticky

Clouds gather like a snowball

They roll in their gray wakening slumber

The Time Man’s head feels lost, almost empty but so full at the same time it could lead to bursting

A calm loneliness fills him

A bitter gouging of chaotic society simmers below

Nails poised to scratch out the dumbest eyes

How can some people stand themselves?

Are they so unaware of how annoying they are?

I suppose they are distracted by their own ghastliness

I know, I work in an arena of public nuisance every day

Inept strangers that shuffle through the produce wilderness

Completely incapable of understanding a potato

Or just plain rude, bossy, nasty

Again, I ask

How can you stand yourself?

Makes me want to puke and shower

The grossness of congealed humanity

Dirty clothes, dirty hair, dirty souls

How can you stand your own existence?

---

But today the time man is away from it

Soaring above the Nazca Desert in Peru

It’s oddly raining

Every clock shows a different time

I am nowhere but I am everywhere

Swimming in clouds

Hurting on the inside

No one knows anything about me

I am an egg roll enigma

I am a mixture of a man

A Time Man

Rolled tight and claustrophobic in the world out there

Unable to move, bend, or walk

The crush of humans all around me

But today the bands are broken

I am free to breathe for a brief moment of time

I am insane and buzzing

I sit here and write these words that no one reads or cares about

But I am a sitting prophet

My words will mean something when I am gone

So, I believe

Or maybe I will just blow like dust in the wind