castaways in flux
here we are again
on an uninhabited island
as if characters
in a sociological novel
in the process of being written
you kick up your feet
and everyone else [reflexively]
does the same
on any given day there may be
three or seven or thirteen of us
sitting ‘round the table
the fluctuations a subject of
deliberation
and of course
disbelief
there are no seasons here
making it easy to keep time
due to the sun & moon & tides
only occasionally does someone know
what day it is
the last time there was a quorum
someone proposed
there must be a conduit somewhere
a wormhole if you will
which could very well explain
all the fluctuations
but not our continual presence
march two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
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