Day 299 of 2026
“Two Gyms, Twenty-Five Minutes”
song· 111s
generating...
Two bags on the passenger seat,
one pink with chalk, one with gloves laced round its neck.
Both need to be somewhere by 5:40.
The wind has its own timetable.
The wipers have stopped to think.
Twenty-five minutes, owed twice.
I take the corner like an apology
and the bags lean into each other
like two people who have never met
and are exactly the same tired.
A rain-washed Wellington roundabout at dusk, built as a diorama-world: one circular street ringing the viewer, with the two competing gyms as lit stages on opposite sides and the day's overlapping time spooling between them.