Tuesday, December 10, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Watch Out!

My watch tells the time to the end of my watch
Does it tick slower if I watch or not?
I watch the watch until the watch ends its watch
There’s not much to watch so I watch it a lot

Number 330 is rather silly, and an introduction to this five minute task from my creative writing class.

I break watches. When I was growing up I never knew where the ends of my arms were. Even now I often get home to discover scrapes and bruises on my knuckles and no idea how they got there. Watches suffer worse.

When I left my job, my colleagues gave me a watch. It had a raised metal edge, so no matter how wildy I swung it, the glass face was protected. I wore it climbing rocks in Australia, crossing mountain passes in New Zealand and cycling across France, and there wasn't a scratch on it.

Four years after I was given it, the strap broke.
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