Time Is Fat

I have read that, lately, in modern Physics,

the Present is thought of as being thick,

no longer a knife-edge between Past and Future,

but thick: a point in Time no longer a point,

an instant not an instant, but agreeably plump.

Who wouldn't prefer that time be plump?

And it's probably mathematically true.

Hallelujah. Time is fat.

And that's how it feels to me Today.

I am getting on, pretty much like I was

and will be, little good to anyone but myself,

but if not exactly glad, and proud of what I do,

less mad at it too, which is better for the circulation.

And if it were not for Today's being fat,

Tomorrow might fall on me like the great guns

of the First World War, ourselves in a ditch,

unable to deal with it.

May Mankind Herself do better,

and do it Today, while we still have Time,

dear, plump, agreeable Time.