I have measured out my life in coffee
spoons
As others measure theirs in honeymoons.
For some hairdryers, singing in choirs,
Others are terminally frequent flyers.
Life’s the credit column for bean
counters
The book shut hard when figures falter.
Waiting for a word is a lover’s calendar;
Time overflows, when not a colander.
Each to their own, goes the stopwatch
platitude,
Winding the timepiece, setting the alarm,
Pretending to adopt a zen attitude.
Seconds may stretch to an eternity.
Sonnets give an impression of calm charm
Then press tender buttons of insanity.
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