what time it is anymore.
to ask
would mean
there's more wrong with you
than meets the eye.
where isn't there
a clock,
where aren't there numbers
telling
you the time. on your wrist,
the wall, in your hand,
the stove.
who needs a sundial
anymore.
it would slow the world down,
god forbid,
to a crawl.
No comments:
Post a Comment