by Larry Bowers
I lost my watch,
And it’s an embarrassing situation,
To go around looking at the back of my bare wrist,
And talk like I’m doing some weird incantation:
“Two hairs past a freckle.”
I murmur to no-one in particular.
It’s like the time I lost my glasses,
And went around poking my finger at the bridge of my nose.
People thought I was crazy.
At least they thought I was close.
So don’t lose anything,
Lest you go round showing other humans
what a creature of habit is man.
When we started measuring time, our eyesight got worse,
From concentrating on the “our” hand.