A distant sound of sirens glide through the air and fall on deaf ears.
"We're late," they'd say.
And I'd be puzzled because
I'd have no idea I'd been on time,
or early -- and all
I could do was observe
the latecomers to the supposed
'party' of realization --
the parties of the future
where the only refreshment
was knowledge
and a time from when before you were in love
with a sssssssssss.
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