Winding Down

 Time stands still–
     it is a damn good thing
     it is not the earth stopping;
     I would fall right off the edge.
As it is, the painful clock
     watching of academia,
    hunger pangs mid-afternoon,
    yawns of suffocation at work,
Clock hands beat in place-
     interminable desire to move on,
     stuck as if bent tines would
     forever halt them in their rounds.
I then realize that the clock
    does not control the time,
    nor do I. Someone tell the sun
    and moon and stars.
I will do it yesterday
     and tomorrow will be important
     not to repeat itself, and someone,
    please put new batteries in the clock.

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