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.

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