What's more, Franklin meant it as a joke.
November 5, 2017
And the command went out:
AT 2:00 FALL BACK
whereupon the people obeyed,
Easterners who dwelt in concrete towers,
flat-landers hunkered down midst corn and wheat,
settlers of snow-topped mountains
and bronze denizens of the beach.
Each donned PJs,
on pocket watches,
on wooden Cuckoos shlepped back from the Black Forest,
then hit the sack and snoozed while
smartphones, iPads, laptops,
on their own,
altered time through networks of inscrutable cognition,
deaf to the celestial guffaw.
At sunrise, roosters crowed,
infants wailed for mother’s breast
and all the sleeping people,
yanked too soon into the dawn,
yawned and groused, Foiled again.
Tinker with the hours though we might,
the God of day and night
still rolls back light before the darkness,
makes the evening fall,
makes seasons change,
causes times to come and go,
orders the stars on their appointed paths
And to think, come spring,
we’ll fiddle with the cosmos yet again.
I mean, really, guys.
Are we chutzpadik,