Time, time, time, time, the clock
vaccinates us.
and then even that lacks
prophylaxis.
Ticktock-pockmarked, stricken
by such strokes, we
get sick of prescriptions
which work solely
on the body.
Systole diastole–
It is by its very
intermittency
that the heart knows
itself to be an I.
Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Bill Knott better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.
it was good i write alot of poetry i think you should read mine about stress