Noa Mendoza

All of it

although there were no clocks

in airports, time mattered.

there were no clocks in casinos, either.

hospitals had two. some train stations

had one, but it was very big.

most families had a clock

on the oven in the kitchen.

there was not much time in hallways

or bathrooms. there was none in tombs.

time was told, and it was not.

bedrooms often mortared time

trash was timed but ageless.

animals knew time, but most

people did not know how much

time their animals knew. trees

carried time in circles. turtles

carried time on their backs. people

carried time in their fingers and hair

and around their waists.

when it was not being carried,

time went. it went far. this

was called absence. some times

moved like the pirouette of a little dog.

other times like a very old dog

walking through a forest.

in the old story, time was

suspended from strings.

those strings formed fabric.

in our time, you can see some of those

strings, called quipu

at the guggenheim.

but to do that you must

get a timed ticket.

because we are at the end

of our time together, i remind you,

three weeks is tall and a year

is a short moment. and to that bug over there

i say, you are living your only day

a day which is all

of it.

Noa Mendoza is a poet and translator. They live in Brooklyn, and their first chapbook of poetry and experimental translation radio fantasmal/ fantasy radio is forthcoming through Wendy’s Subway.