We Only Knew Time
I’m tired of living in historic times


we only knew time
was moving forward becasue
the sun set each day
My son told me that he’s tired of living through historic times. He’s eleven and just started middle school — if you count walking to his room from the kitchen every morning and cracking open the Chromebook as going to school.
He doesn’t.
When I was eleven, I was not living in historic times. I was living in 1987. But I read a lot about historic times. It seemed like those times were always full of danger and adventure.
Those times required courage and daring.
What we are living through now is nothing like the stuff I read about. Surviving in these times doesn’t require any bravery or daring on my part. It only requires patience and humility.
Compared to bravery and daring, patience and humility are boring.
I love my family. I want to protect them — and so we wear masks. We are patient with virtual school. We listen to the experts and live our lives the best that we can.
Every day is a different family crisis, a different adventure. Yet, somehow, even though every day brings fresh challenges, every day is still the same. Every day is a monotonous adventure.
When I was eleven, and at the apotheosis of awkwardness, I hid from the world inside of fantasy and history books. I told myself that if I ever faced an existential danger, I would make brave but wise decisions.
Now, at age 44, I’m facing the threat of a global pandemic after having had cancer surgery last year, and what certainly feels like the last days of a decaying empire on the verge of implosion.
There are no brave decisions to make for me right now — so I try to be wise, patient, and humble.
I hate living in historic times.
This post was originally published on Medium.
Hi, I’m Jason McBride! I’m a poet-cartoonist, and Weirdo Poetry is a reader-supported publication. You can find my books and zines over at the Weirdo Poetry Shop.
Tips are always appreciated!




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