Already, tomorrow is stitching itself together.
Right now, it is busy flicking through a case of lenses.
There is still time left for it to burn a few old canvases,
to thaw out a woolly mammoth,
to toss a few old lamp fonts into the tip.
You long to tell it that you yourself are not quite ready
(a cello sleeps in the corner, kindness sleeps in your heart)
but what does tomorrow care if you have fallen behind!
Here, look through this crack in the wall:
see how tomorrow just throws us an unpuzzled glance,
spits in its hands,
and shakes out another patchwork landscape.
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