a stainless steel
lightweight
Corrosive resistant
contraption
That encumbers
my wrist
and can’t
Tell me anything
useful anyway.
“There will be time,
there will be time
To prepare a face
to meet the faces
that you meet.”
No, this soul
has no time
For a chronometer
With a full
date display,
Blue dial, rhodium-
plated hands,
And an alligator
strap—
I already know
too much about
Coffee spoons
and sugar spoons
Bus stops,
Trolley stops
Business meetings
and phone calls.
Preparing
for that
special show
A meeting
with the CEO.
And I don’t
want one
in my pocket
either,
Like a mouse.
Tick tock
Tick tock
I grow old
I grow old
My pants
grow mold.
Tell me
something
good–
Surprise me,
It’s my Birthday.
What I really
want to know is:
When will
my kids
grow up;
When will
my heart
stop beating;
And when will
the last
polar bear
step off
the last piece
of melting
Arctic sea ice
and silently
disappear.
Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and semi-retired trial lawyer studying poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy previously received a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science from Boston University, an M.A. in Government from Georgetown University, and a J.D. from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy’s poetry has appeared most recently in Chiron Review, TheNewVerse.News, Ariel Chart, Social Justice Poetry, The Potomac, The Penmen Review and elsewhere.