The Year of the Last Useful Invention
The clock of my mind stopped in 1897.
it is always late autumn
and we dress mostly in grey
steam locomotive whistles
daily puncture our thought balloons
my teacher once said:
Boy, consider the rectangle,
source of all progress.
forty days and forty nights
forty shekels and forty cubits
and thirty pieces of silver
the number of mosquitoes
skating on the rain barrel
a marching panorama
of numbered cards
sometimes, a Joker!
a fire or a drunken brawl
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