Saturday, September 15, 2012

Losing Track of Time

I’m an old-fashioned watch-tapper
with a peptic stomach
and a recurring nightmare
of all eyes turning slowly my way
as the scowling man at the podium
begins pelting me with condemnations
over my lazy procrastination.

You could say I appreciate punctuality.

If I was a woman, I’d be a bun-headed,
horn-rimmed-glasses-wearing,
red-lips-pursing, battle-axe
of an I-hate-late-people person.

Still, I just love losing track of time with you.



Boston Literary Magazine - Fall 2012

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