The alarm clock rang:
'so get up' sang
the peerless voice
in its lunar case;
Answering my blow
with hitch and a beep
and a Tosca-like leap
to the floor, below
where, nicking my foot,
it beat retreat
to a dusty zone
beyond the phone,
still bleating 'ow! ' -
its expletive-
worse than any I could give.
Up, now,
sitting in bed
I rubbed my head
now made wise
to the ways
Time
flies.
Morgan Michaels
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/time-920/
