Today’s text message is yesterday’s
science fiction
time and technology are oh so relative
like looking at your watch as you cross the International Date Line
only to land
to read the shadow in the sand
lit off a sundial in Thailand
and it’s half past the pebble meaning three-thirty pm
on the beach seconds before high tide
washes it all away
when your watch is still stuck on Toronto time
where the night reads stories by the hush of three a.m. street lights
and tonight we set the clocks back
because we can do that
we can screw with time
while all the while time stalks us
like lost shadows of midnight’s sundial
so dark we can’t see the shadow let alone the stick
and still we have the power
to make it two o’clock
for the second hour in a row.
cottonbombs 