TIME UP

by
Iggy McGovern

 Ho, Citizen of The Third Rock! 
The Lords of Interstellar Time
are here to calibrate your clock,
the tick, the tock, the cheep, the chime,
the pound of flesh owed to Shylock,
the reason and the rhyme.

Your seasons are all out of rhyme:
you should be cleaving to the Rock
of Ages, yet you waste your time
in vain pursuit, against the clock,
of poetry; your paltry chime
has ended in gridlock.

We must insist you now padlock
the nursery door upon all rhyme
of unicorn and red-eyed roc,
the hick'ry-dick'ry mouse of time,
Wee Willie Winkie's eight o'clock,
Oranges n' Lemons chime.

Forget the Golden Treasury's chyme,
the out of date Rape of the Lock,
those ancient mariners of rhyme:
O Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!
(a problem solved all in good time
by Harrison's fine clock).

When pumpkin-like at 12 o'clock
your forehead butts the front-door chime,
the wrong key jiggling in the lock,
the dogs take up the woof of rhyme,
the hand that makes the cradle rock
will coldly ask: What time

do you call this? - it's borrowed time!
There is no ten-to-three stopp't clock
so let go of that wine-keg's chime;
no visitation from Porlock
and no amount of see-saw rhyme
can stay the pendulum's rock.

Long past the time of seaside rock
and schoolbook rhyme. Let us unlock
the graveyard, chime the old church clock.

Last Revised: 2010 February 23rd