Stacey Dye

Time sputters along, an ailing 35mm film projector.
Clicking off the black and white frames of an imperfect life.

Everything plays out in slow motion. Rewind it for impact,
fast forward through what you can’t handle.

But it’s all still there, ready for your consumption.
Ingest it in bits and pieces if you have to--

however you can come to grips with it.
Fiddle with the buttons. You’ll figure it out.