Another Lunch Sonnet

Just taught, or tried to teach, something in class -
The "Literary Present Tense", in fact;
The grammar term for how we often act
Like books’ events take place, not in the past,
But in a constant present time that lasts.
Reminds me of Yeats’ "Lapis", where Lear’s acts
Eternally, concurrently, refract
like mirrors that face each other, in a glass.
All art happens at once, and always now.
This strangely fits with thinking that I’ve done
While meditating recently at dawn
On how there’s just this moment, always, how
The past and future can’t be reached. No one
Can leave the present, which continues on.