Poem: Time the "Already"

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Of time, the "already", there already were
substantial quantities -- for some too much --
they stood along the curb, nothing to do --
others had none at all, or couldn't seem
to tap into the place where it was stored.
Not enough, not enough, and so they swerved
in their big trucklike cars, doomed to be late
no matter what -- and for those at the curb
and for those at the wheel -- one single time,
there was one time, not two --
stretching to cover whatever there was,
only the distribution seemed bizarre:
jagged and somehow discontinuous,
jerking and pulling sideways like a bus.

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