London calling: "Ni hao, it's Beijing."
"Why don't you answer the phone when we ring?
I've been trying to call you for a day."
"Oh? Did you factor in the time delay?"
Soccer clocks count down, football clocks count up.
The path to a cup is truly a race
If the end is not a time but a place.
Each field stretching out to a distant wall
Hosts another ball. No two are the same.
Such is the nature of the endless game.
We play outside of time. Work's not so kind.
We suddenly find ourselves rushed along
Unable to verbalize what feels wrong
And fearful to impose our rules upon
This stage. We'll be gone from it in "good time"
-Whatever that means. In arrogance, I'm
Imagining an unbounded cocoon
That may open soon, or remain until
Some distant date. Perhaps it never will.