STOPWATCH
Ashok Niyogi
Meetings and hope
Crash on rock
Two hundred feet into the sea
Crash with such ferocity
There’s a permanent mist
Over the Freeway
Out of Crescent City.
Yet in the Bay Area
Progression is regression
All before the stopwatch stops.
People like zombies
Trundle pushcarts
In and out of organized rows
Of groceries,
The stopwatch never stops.
Weekends we own
With aircraft monitored speed limits
Thousand dollar fines for litter
Elk steaks, the spray from the Bride at Yosemite,
Falling in love with a fox.
On Sunday evening as we do our laundry
We think of the Monday conference call and
The stopwatch stops.
But where is the derelict, the wino, the waster,
To record this all.
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