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
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.