Time
an accomplice of waste
is an image of expense

it is always spilling
its angry hands
wheeling

its consummate skill
pounding
like a drill in the brain

never to be stopped
retrieved
or
replenished

forever whittling
whittling
whittling
away
away
away
away
away
all the vast stores
of
being!

(this poem is usually structured differently, but it was very hard to duplicate without getting double line spaces, which I hate!)