All Circles Are Flat

The funny thing about time – well, not in the humour-implied sense of that adjective; if that ever existed, the drollery, if not the irony, drained out of it soon before long ago – is that it has no beginning. It cannot be used as a measure of itself. When did time start? Certainly not with a bang; nor will it end with an entropic whimper. It is a movement together with a rest.

Rounding Down

A circle – slights tangentially to infinity - a square: smoothed edges at the hard right 90 – angles buffeted by roughage of intellectual refinery. A square peg circles the round poke hole. Around about. Swings. Pots. Kettles. Fire. Pan fried freight.

On the hand of the other

There's not long to go. Too. Go. On. Gone. One. Once. E. RR. On. Timing. Out. Countdown. Direction down and righting. Wise clocked hands spread, eagles fly up and failing, fall, follow-up and rising. Gain. In. Seconds. Lost. Out. Tock. Ticked and clocked-wised and rising again, against gains, directional grains gravity falls drowning out. Hours. Our. Direction down. On. Sound. Minutes. Ding. On. Gone. Seconded. Bong. Hit. Hat. Tit. Tat.Bing. Bong. Boss. Is. Offish. This is the new. S. Hit.