Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Too Hot are now published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, October 25th between 3 and 4:30 pm PST.

Friday, October 24, 2025

PJ Swift

Banished 


She had been banished to the future far too soon. Now she would be alone for a very long time. Some friends were also present, but they dropped off, one by one. At times suddenly, unexpectedly. Those that she really knew were a distant echo. Unreachable, irretrievable. Their artifacts became anachronous curiosities to the majority of inhabitants, devoid of emotional worth. And everything was loud, fast and confusing. Unsatisfying. And pointlessly repetitive. She had already seen, and lived and loved it all. In the past.




Saving Time


For the sake of efficiency and savings, they decided to eliminate seconds from timekeeping, to only have the expense of minutes and hours which were numerically far less.  But without the support of 60 seconds each, minutes collapsed and elapsed much more quickly, basically becoming the new seconds.  Hours, thus, collapsed too, sailing by with the new shortened minutes, taking only about 60 seconds, and in fact, collapsing even further since they were not built for such speed.  Days, too, collapsed, and flew by, further collapsing the weeks and months, which were now improperly aligned with celestial time.  Everyone was in a whirlwind of confusion, losing so much precious time that continued to flow in rapid tumults, until finally drying up.  And then time was no more.




Play the Game


Too many reminders

of all that is precious

and must be cherished

is also blinding, preventing access

to the moment --  you cannot win

you can only play the game


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