Why I Hate Clocks [not the song]

The clock
sucks life like a metal leech

stealing 3-D
throwing back a comic book

in little torturous increments,
the second hand innocently cirles in a smooth radius across the clock face,

hiding behind a mask of
familiarity:
a next door neighbor who comes to the christening to murder you.

the second hand tapping is really a mechanized dictator [with a real napolean complex]

chiseling away which each tick,
keeping you from breathing the air as it is

cramming into
suffocation in a 2-D world

forcing you to measure every moment
not in experiences

but in the monetary or the momentary

you must be:
here where when? there

and in all this noise rush fury of time measurments

the WHY is stolen with a metal grip
by the tyranical second hand

take back your why