by Gil Hoy

Polar bear on piece of Arctic ice

I’ve no use for
A stainless steel

Corrosive resistant

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, there’s 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 black mold.

Tell me something
Good—Surprise me

Today’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

Category: Featured, Poetry