Chronos Folds His Arms

W 79th St. & Amsterdam Ave.

Taxis and footsteps all possessed with time
To waste and to fill until we close our eyes;
Yellow cars and yellow clouds tell us before evening, 
To do something, anything—plans to finalize.

Chronos folds his arms and clucks his tongue
And underlines for emphasis our bad luck:
“You tried again to run from work to fun;
But tasting everything, you’ve tasted none.”

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