Lost Time Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

As I was standing over the edge
Of the rail – the tracks convoluted
Into a path to nowhere.
Labyrinthine, I quipped.
The impasse, I uttered.
It was surreal,
To stand close enough
As the train rummaged, looking for
Questions and not answers.
I pondered over
The strict turbulence
As the train quavered in its speed
Of desultory insignificance.
The life of a train –
Of getting to the point of reference
And trampling past the path
Of sullying – how mundane,
How absurd.
All the passengers inside,
With faces of malaise
And lethargy – with hearts that are apathetic,
Are worn out denizens of existence.
Where are we in the labyrinth?
I lost time,
And, time has lost me.
What is there to lose
In the labyrinth?
Strength?
Gallantry portrayed in a daring stance?
Disheveled hope?
What is there to lose?
I tell you,
I lost time,
And time has lost me.
I found time,
Asleep
In the circumference of the clock
Impaled to the wall,
Deaf and mute.