On the Eve of the Tuesday that Wasn't

On the eve of the Tuesday that wasn’t,
I emptied my suitcases full,
drove away from the airport at once and
then parked in a small swimming pool.

On the eve of the Tuesday that wasn’t,
the jet taxied down the bike lane.
The stewardess showed me her boarding pass,
so I let her get off of the plane.

On the eve of the Tuesday that wasn’t,
I traveled as slowly as light,
and one hour passed like a dozen,
(and then vice-a-versa at night).

Then after the Tuesday that wasn’t,
comes the Wednesday that will be (I think)
Then I’ll stand upside down in New Zealand,
and my brain will be back in the pink.