The Killing of Time 

The Killing of Time Killing Time 1

M is for mundane; 

as much as a Monday could possibly be, 

this slow dripping of the clock ticking, 

I can hear every second whisper 

as they mould themselves into one another 

lasting more than they need to, 

laughing, stopping, mocking. 

M is for meetings; 

where I exist in the parallel worlds of words 

that don’t touch each other as we sit around a round 

table with chairs and faces and laptops and zooms 

moving mouths and making sounds 

these floating heads that seem to be alive 

at this and for this 

M is for move, 

can a day walk into tomorrow? 

glide into another week? 

rush into a better moment? 

(while the tables, chairs and glass windows hold down the walls of time) can there be a movement from a stilled moment 

away from this mundane? 

M is for Marlboro milds; 

my mother made me promise not to touch 

those damn things but if the day 

has to move, there are but two choices – 

and one of them is the dark smoke of slow death 

which is probably still faster than 

this slimy, slithering, slowness. 

M is for murder, 

the other choice that seems ridiculous? 

who would I even drag a makeshift dagger through? 

Time cannot be killed, floating heads do not feel 

and mother did not make me promise about murder 

but I hardly think she would approve, 

who would I kill anyway? 

I’m sorry though, mother. 

These mundane Monday meetings moved me to choose ________.


NayanaGupta Photograph 1

Nayana Gupta

Nayana Gupta is a visual artist and writer based out of Kolkata.

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