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.
Word Play 