I Prog Poem by Brian Minniear

Nanoseconds make instants.
If ever we are to walk too far away, every work we are in progress,
And barter sunsets for spells of matter

Staring absently into cameras.
Instants make moments
What compilation is, there they are
There they go - then those outermost parameters must remain

As always, unbent.
Yet imagine them wavering
As must also those moments make seconds eternally ripple.
Our big hurry is that we are temporal and tardy
With so much to do, and grow tired.

Crazy then, how: Short the spans of our attention
Readily we seek distraction
Acquiesced, preoccupation;
Even medicated unto numbness.
And seconds make minutes we choose to make measured
(Watch the sun, watch the sun) .