I'll sit and pick
the seconds from the minutes
Then stick them in my pocket
with the lizards and the crickets
Like a child turning stars into wishes
Snuffing life in an instant for the sake
of a miscreant's Christmas list.

I'll point and laugh
At the writing on the wall
Unless it's Kilroy's nose
peering over my stall.

Here we are. Final stop.
Pendulum, meet Clock.
Grab a drink. Take a seat.
Want a snack? Coffee?
Yeah, but it's black.
Something sweet?
Let me check.