if we have months
we can have days too
and maybe hours
right
now it seems
like minutes are for suckers
not just seconds
but thirds too
can be just names of things
letters marshaled in an order
a certain way of going along
if we have weeks
strung together like xmas lights
then we have years too
to hold it all together
or to let it all
fall apart
before winter’s
even a twinkle
in summer’s eye
there will be
cobwebs in the lamplight
still
like a planet that cannot dance
buoyed by boredom
like an emoticon for jealousy
every backyard's lesson
is lost on all the dogs around here
at least
every seven fortnights or so
plums fall from grace
and
moons die
in quiet parlors
or basement rooms
just as often
as lunatics sip melted Jell-O
through fire-hose-long bendy straws
finally completely lost ticks
without any more
tocks
to count
on
or be thereafter
troubled by
ever again
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