The funny thing about the condition my condition is in
is that I spend my days traveling through time—
reliving the past,
guffawing at the present,
and casting and recasting, like a fly fisherman
in those ridiculous waterproof overalls,
into the rapids of the everchanging river
of the possibilities of my own future.

To complicate things even further,
the point of view—and the viewer—shift as well:
my younger self,
with less sympathy than I would’ve imagined,
observes the old man I’ve become.

And the older self sees much more folly in my youth,
through the bifocals of my current age—
even after I give these spectacles a good cleaning.

My many selves look forward
in mixed waves—
of excitement, angst, fear, and trepidation.

There is a cure for this dilemma,
but I think I’ll suffer on
and take the cure sometime in the future.

Oh well, let me get back to it.
The funny thing about the condition my condition is in…