I had this theory about the world spinning
when I was ten. If you stood in one place
long enough and still enough you could
detect the Earth's rotation and every recess,
every missile drill for the apocalypse,
every game of wall ball when I was not the target
I stood as still as I could
and sometimes hopped
to gauge where I landed with respect to where
I took off, I tested it.
The clouds overhead would wheel,
sometimes more sometimes less,
but my feet kept landing in the same spot.
The same shift still comes. Standing at a red light
in a car idling. The car in front gains distance and
my heart flutes uncertainty and I check my B.A.C.
to no avail. Backward to P. S. 19's brickyard,
watching the clouds pull away from me,
the ground falling from beneath me,
the sky stationary and
dividing the real from the sensory.
I do not know
what I want to have changed since then.
You are late for work, little bee.
You are late for work.
I am on time as I can be,
the Earths rotation
took me out
of time.
Did you see the sun set?
It was cat ball orange. The clouds
blew off like a hydrogen weapon.
I hope you want to hang out with me
when the world comes apart
war timed
so I can tell you "you are late,
no."
