not forward or backward
but still.
press your way to the
table, toward aceite and vinaigre
and water you'll have to pay for,
café in the world's
smallest cup.
one gazpacho and
a basket of bread later,
your watch will say
it's been two hours
mas o menos
but it only felt like one
jar of tinto de verano
and nobody minds that
you're still sitting here.
the pile of change you
leave atop the cuenta
will reactivate normal
movement of the
clock.
