Hapless time zones

Hapless time zones

 

it would not be unheard of to skip

time zones in mere hours—to reach

the other side—

 

but we are Other

to the other side, with strange rules applied

by strangers in uncluttered offices

 

to count hours as a standard, so—

it feels squeamish, to be at a negative edge,

one that descended behind without our knowing

 

we can look as if

they were lucky to have a knife

to cut with, from outside the no fly zone—

 

but on which side are we severed? seems righteous

to say, at a negative hour. in need of charts

to know we are here, only means

 

we have evolved to need

these measures beyond reasonable means,

which must mean progress

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