Tuesday, November 16, 2010

drinks fall
to planned obsolescence
and my sturdy jawed boss
replaces my broken hand
with one filled with beer --

this continues for some time
and some time
until the Earth passes through
a patch in the universe
close to time’s childhood
and time decides to leave the bar

where he goes
only nobody can speculate
as I am left here to apologize
for speculating on time’s gender

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