WHEN THE ENTIRE DAY GOES BY When the entire day's spent lying in bed or else smoothing the wrinkled sheets one asks, amazed: how did the day go by? Merely yawning, legs stretched out, a cigarette loose between limp fingers, blowing rings of smoke Or wondering between very important chores —including wiping one's ass— "What next?"- the wheels in the brain whirring: do that, do this, now do that again Or in utterly useless talk with neighbors who happen by: "What did he charge for meat today?" "My, she's got hips, hasn't she?" Or if not that then in wondering: "How much time is left now? How should my life move— with those who are moving on or with those who stopped?" I shiver; like leavened dough a thought rises: the chores are done But the film of reality and dream flickers on inside my head, and sounds of memories, tears and laughter linger A thought goes tumbling by, like a bubble, joining night with day, joining the moist moment that pollutes with the dry hour of oblivious sleep Then come a numbness and persistent yawns; time flies again Smoothing the wrinkled sheets, one falls asleep Annual of Urdu Studies, #7 45