Not this time.

He washes his watches He also watches his watches Standing on the little hand going around, he gets nauseous His conscience is telling him to get on the big hand and go slow He has the innate ability to tell his brain no. Irony. He is on top and bottom of his own hierarchy Drowns in the clock like ocean He’s running out of time or should he swim? Time never stops even if the watch is broken I wonder if he’ll ever see it again Because we throw away things that are broken But still keep things that don’t work This time I’m going to wash it and reuse it like an old shirt They tell me “You can’t wash broken things” But you can fix them They won’t float in the ocean But you can ship them Then you could sail them Now if anybody watches This what I’d tell them: the time. The time is now My brain functions like a clock. Want to how? Well it moves to three different pacing slow, medium, and fast It’s steady, but never stops changing It makes me laugh Will I ever listen to my conscience? Not this time.