Time Talk
By agora
Time Talk The clock says trust me, things are as they ought to be. No. This is not true I say to the lying clock. You name and number me dismember me into my scattered parts and yet you cannot recognize the changeless colour of my eyes. The clock says trust me, things are as they ought to be. No. There must be clockless places, places where time is a throwaway game that no one takes to heart. There, time is a waif. Here, time is a knife cold as a crystal. The clock says trust me, things are as they ought to be. No. You are as crafty as a barker at a carnival. Your arms are toxic limbs, you walk with the legs of others, you eat the tongues of others and ask for a second helping. The clock says trust me, things are as they ought to be. No. But l know I will surrender not without a fight to the brigands of chronometry the armies of the calendar the gangsters of the clock somewhere some time. The clock says, then you will be mine. Written November 13th, 2001 © on Nov 13 2001 02:34 PM PST 0 • 10
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"Time Talk..."