yield

time and space yield to no one
tho anthropogenic change has slowed
the spin of the earth
milliseconds of fat
water around the equator
you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren
may not note it but the meta—
verses will: a financial irregularity
a capitalization a millisecond too late
mega millions missing or lost
and so, no matter how far away
i move from my hometown
the places stay the same
but imperceptibly changed
in a tangential but indelible way
way too often i return
nothing is ever really the same
the more i come back the more
i change
the song remains the same

What I’m Reading:

A car slides on our asphalt street, like an iron
running on an ironing board.
But in my city, streets are never flat.
Potholes from bombs are everywhere, like
crows’ nests in a forest of noise.

— Mosab Abu Toha / “Forest of Noise”