The second comes in first in our race to
chase infinity. We have split the over-
worked second into so many pieces that
billions now dance the Tango on the head
of a pin with space for flair. A batch of seconds
is what we are given at birth but without
instructions for their use and no hints for
how many we get. So, we climb aboard this
train, at sixty MPH past landscapes of
entire industries dedicated to counting
time with an equal number extolling their
products to save it. And in the end, it all
ends with the oft-fractured second ticking
on and on while still doing the Tango.
Comments