I know it is 10 am

I know it is the 8th of June

but I’m not actually certain of either of these facts.

I’m not certain

if this is a garden!

And I do not know why its flowers smell of gunpowder!

And if those are windows

or dead eyes?

Is this rain or the dribble of someone being tortured?

And that thing soaring swiftly

like a black thunderbolt

(from low to high)

is it a bird or is it a scream?

I know it is 10

this morning or maybe on yesterday morning

or even on a morning of an old year.

But there is really no morning

they’ve kidnapped the sun

and the light remaining cannot pay its ransom to the clouds.

I have known it is 10 for hours

or for days

but I do not know where I am!

Neither does the past pass

nor does the present reveal its presence.

Everything existing is this 10 am,

which turns everything else into mere speculation.