Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
Go numbered but nameless
To the archive.
The desk calendar will de-triangulate,
An information-retrieval device,
Hence a time machine of sorts,
But, at best,
The one you need, not the oen you want.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
Go, numbered but nameless,
to the archive.
The desk calendar will stop triangulating —
an information-retrieval device,
a time machine of sorts,
but, at best,
the one you need, not the one you want.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline.
My desk calendar will stop triangulating —
a data-retrieval device,
a low-tech time machine,
but the one you need,
not the one you want.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
will stop triangulating —
a navigational device,
an analog time machine,
a convenient redundancy
you did not pay for.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
must stop triangulating —
a paper compass,
an printed time machine,
a convenience,
서비스.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
must stop triangulating —
a cardboard compass,
a printed time machine,
a Trojan
horse.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
must stop triangulating —
a cardboard compass,
a print time machine,
a Korean bearing
gifts.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
must stop triangulating —
a cardboard compass,
a print time machine,
a Greek selling
watches.
Midnight the cold year will drop a goose egg.
Years like unchristened convicts
go, numbered anonymous,
to the timeline. My calendar
must stop triangulating —
a cardboard compass,
a print time machine,
a Greek selling
clocks.