About Time (Stephen Hawking Never Did This)

Time, the man said, is money
True, but it's also an egg
Soft-boiled and runny
Or maybe it's a punch line
That's no longer funny

For the philosopher, time is weird
For the prophet, time is seered
But for the faithless,
It's hated and feared

For the bon vivant, time is delicious
For the lonely, it's oppressive and vicious
Cosmologists tell us however
It's actually liquid and squish-ous

Time is a strange design
In the West, it's a horizontal line
But in the East, they see time as round
Then again for the musician
Time is understood as sound

At work, time's increasingly wired
For the artist, it's unceasingly sired
For humans, it's simply required
That is until death
When it's finally fired

M. Bogen
2004/2021