by Jim WisneskiThe second hand ticks
the music so loud
The minute hand tries. . .
oh, it tries
The hour hand asleep
Gear grooves grind with grit
Wires cross – an electric rainbow delight
A calm cuckoo can’t control -“wake up” – it cries
Chipped numbers -lines await their turn
A platform to preachLittle doors to breach
the whole world is out there. . .
it’s waiting. . .