Time, chewing (Dobyns)

But time is like a fat man at a banquet table—
he gobbles up the future and shits it into the past.
If we listen, we can even hear him chewing: days come,

days gone, days come, days gone. Who will save us?
We are lackluster virgins which the mustachioed world
ties to the train tracks of tomorrow's locomotive.

Stephen Dobyns, from "Inappropriate Gestures"