written sometiume in 1969 (bsn)
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19690000                    Idea of Time

You have nothing you didn’t have before
Except the fading image of three lights and
A pack of matches.
Five minutes wasted on five seconds
Of careless perception.
An eternity lost.
Objective of yesterseconds actions
Back now as before,
With a selection of future time
In which to try again.
It really isn’t important,
Except that it is life
And I still want a cigarette.