What Time Isn’t


The broken watch’s hands were frozen on its face
Like not to know the time was some kind of disgrace.

I pulled the back off with a knife, and gingerly removed
the hands and face and gears and bits that refused to move.

The gears and bits and face I threw away, they had no claim
upon my sympathy – but the hands – I pitied them their shame.

I put the hands back loose and free to rattle in the case
with a sign that said ‘Time is an Illusion’ for a face.
 
Now I have two watches, and when I need to make decisions,
one tells me what the time is, the other tells me what it isn’t.

#298

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