TIME DIVIDED

I thought it was the good-damn Tuesday but

it was already the blasted Wednesday; oh

well, what does it matter? A day

is a day and in that you stay until

it changes or you

cease. So, a Wednesday. Did

I go out? I don't remember. Perhaps

I did, perhaps it was on Tuesday, the

real Tuesday, the one that came

on its ordered place in the week

and departed, giving way

to the false one, Wednesday;

a day is a day is a... Each

day for a twenty-four hours we

are in Babylon in the land of

the two streams, and

each day is divided into sixty minutes

of slices of Mesopotamia

for us to dwell in. There we

are, moving from one little

box to another, neatly in line and

then, zoom in and

you see us again, now

traversing from one second to

another sixty times in a minute.

You get it? Wave to us,

see us to wave

back to you, us, 

sixty times in a minute,

sixty minutes in an hour

twenty-four hours a day,

just us, waving

to each other,

to ourselves, again.

25.04.2018