Stop the clock
I want to get off,
Until I’ve caught
My sorry breath,
If not slow down
Till I have found,
My way around
This crazy race,
That can but lead
To injudicious waste,
In that grim place
Where rest in peace
Hints neath the ground!
Poetry on a canapé
A journey through Jean-Jacques Fournier's poetry
Poetry on a canapé 
Injudicious waste … how terrifying these words occur to me.
No more terrifying than arriving at the point of constant awareness of time angrily going faster, and faster, as though anxious to be rid of you. Save some of us intend to remain fighters on that score, if only to expose its greedy intention. Jean-Jacques Fournier