some watch tv, some read the news
others have coffee and talk with
the person they are travelling with.
others are just silent and sleepy
and then sleep. They dream.
others stare at the hours. others kill
these hours of waiting for the
3 o'clock flight to boracay.
i am one of them. I kill time and this
is my tool of killing it.
you are reading this. Time is dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem