Calling Cadence And Crimping Chronometers
I have, as of yet
Not opted to fall back
Ya know
Our collective dickering around
With the clock
This Tick Tock
seasonal windsock of what
light is right and what time is blight
And up in the morning and out to
school
A fool’s errand
our hour correction
A confection of collective conceit
So my time-honored tradition
Is to stamp my feet
At this tempo change
And refrain for a fortnight
Or better
The manipulation of hands
dealt… now, and then, and
long-standing
And my first attempt at a “perfectly” out of tune tone poem
