Down Drown

Definitive slew down the nothing embankment,
Waters roll off my palms as I poach the drifted out ocean,
Waiting for a moment of finding purpose,
Turn over the mud to find the snail that couldn’t crawl,
Uncover the roots of the tree kicking up dirt,
Where does the motor mouth run?
Does the engine move me to my destination?
Or does it power the chainsaws teeth to the former tree?

Either way I’m disinterested and unmotivated.
But where’s the time going?