Thirteen O’clock

My watch struck thirteen long ago
As my brainwaves faded ebbing low
I got clocked right square in the jaws
And saw blue parrots and macaws
Flying round my head a squawking
Backwards riddles were they talking
Then as I woke, I saw that time
Ran clockwise in iambic rhyme
The numbers in an ancient text
Across the floor were running vexed
And up the wall they scampered out
Out midst the traffic’s round about
And as time’s travels journeyed on
The thirteenth number tripped upon
A subway grate that stubbed his toe
An undertow grabbed from below
Thirteen was lost forever there
So help me that’s the truth I sware

Your Honor

27 thoughts on “Thirteen O’clock

  1. Jane Dougherty says:

    For many years, thirteen and clocks for me was the Thurber story The Thirteenth Clock. It was reissued as a Puffin paperback with The Wonderful O and was a book I loved reading when I was a child. Orwell took a long time to displace the word association, if he even has. Childhood memories are the strongest I think.

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