Clock is Ticking

Clock is Ticking poem by steven james humphreys

Rock and roll song

playing in my head

clock’s ticking long

bong, bong, bong

life’s a wasting

going, going, gone

500 channels

nothing on

pulling the last of my hair out

might as well skip through

a field of daisies

bald man gone

old neighbor Fred sitting in his chair watching me

plucking down a dozen

as my world comes crashing down

people walking by with their long frowns

holding my bouquet of daisies

in a dreaming field

looking down like a sad flower holding clown

500 channels can’t go on

commandeering my John Deere tractor

proud red hat on

mowing this ten-acre lawn

jack and coke in the drink holder

engine smoking chugging on bolder

hit a sprinkler don’t give a hoot

nothing doing mind’s a wasting

took my gun out of its holster ready to shoot

gonna be in control today

gonna watch that big game on the big screen

everything’s OK

plenty of pizza, beer and channel flipping

I say

life’s on a roll

passed out on the lawn when the game began

woke up against the only tree in the God d _ _ _ _ d yard

with the tractor still idling

my head on the horn made it toot

wife standing there,

‘Are you OK’?


but I’m

a poker faced liar,

because there’s

a wicked ass




in a circle

in my glass

like he thinks he owns it,

drunk like me.




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