There’s always time for literature, let’s go out today,
leave that story for later, when you’re home alone.
Literature can always wait, there’s an event today,
you can gulp that poem tomorrow on your way to work.
Literature will always be there, but experiences won’t,
let’s enjoy the moment, life’s too short not to live it.
Now we’re done for the day, all the pleasures are gone,
we may as well try some literature to seek some joy.
But what is this? I don’t get it, all this melodrama,
so much fuss for nothing, I could write this book on a page.
Take this book, just as you like them, full of sightseeing,
bustling with activity, no diminuendos, no reflections on nothingness.
Yes, that’s it, but I’m done, let’s go out again tomorrow,
and reflect amid some bass guitar and the thrill of society.
There’s always time for literature, then
it’s never time for literature.
