Monday, April 22, 2019


Actually, time
would never really lapse—
time is too clever
and too quick for that.

Actually, it's just you
and me—losing little bits of it
grabbing coffee,
breaking up, falling

down drunk, signing
contracts, planting trees, eating
pizzas (topped
with hot dogs, once) in front of TVs;

and not often enough
a few lazy photographs, not taken
by either one of us
to whichever abandoned photomat.

Actually, it's just
my trusty built-in camera
running out of batteries, it's only
your imperfect lenses

whose apertures
like to close at random
or else open halfway, then stop,
in between which

the Giza pyramids
seem to get bulldozed
by erosion, one
by one, the great cathedrals

all groan
and collapse—into
celebrated museums, with inglorious
gift shops.

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