No rest for the wicked
didn’t need sleep just think of all
each one of us could do—
with eight hours more in twenty-four
how much we could get through.
Time for working, time for talk
and lots more time for play,
and all those little jobs you said
you’d get round to one day.
may be comforting
beds have their uses, certainly,
If you want to get your MBA
or gain one more diploma
you can’t expect to make the grade
be making megabucks,
but there’d be no closing market price
if nothing ever closes.
You could catch up in the rat race —
though there’d still be more ahead:
have you ever wondered why you never
researchers are all hopin’
to find the magic formula
to keep those eyelids open
before the boys in DNA
start getting way too clever
and isolate the sleeping gene
and wake us up for ever.
while you’re lying there unconscious?
Was Stalin good at breaking eggs?
Was Pilate’s first name Pontius?
We’d boost our productivity
by staggering proportions—
a third more murders, burglaries,
divorces and abortions.
time to monitor
our share portfolios—
it sounds a dream (although of course
there’d be no more of those),
but still there is another way
to do it much more neatly:
let’s just cut out the middle man—
abolish time completely.
our lives up just to fit
the sun and moon’s behaviour?
The timeless web of cyberspace
will be our constant saviour.
Weeks are for weaklings, days for the dazed
and minutes there for taking—
No more seconds, only firsts
will mark the claims we’re staking.
last to jet-lag—
put that body clock away.
Tomorrow really never comes,
it’s all one long today.
No time, no place, no start, no end—
O wouldn’t we be clever—
if we didn’t need sleep at last we would
live virtually for ever.
Revised in 2000 and 2019.
© Godfrey Rust 1995, firstname.lastname@example.org. See here for permissions.