the world and I care
little

for one another
such abstract concerns and I

meet a man without hope
who asks me the time

he waits anyway
for the bus I pull a clock

from my pocket and
it’s time as a matter of digits which I suppose once

matched the sun’s passing
how now might a series of words

regress over time
is this then a risk

who would halve it and how quarter
here among all those

who are homeless
but we need an hour and this isn’t

anyplace special
though special since in its notable

lack
JB he be unborn again

and rejecting the bible
as only a book

he read three times and then with this witness
rejects it