There is a monster who eats time
and he always knows when I’m running out
         the door
         of milk
         of time
and he often seems harmless, mewling like a kitten in
a sunbath on tile
    but then
his teeth gnash like a bear trap and
he growls like a starving grizzly and
he bolts like a tabby
         lightning fast in a quest for the red dot, and
as I claw at my time with
         jagged
    chipped fingernails
begging it to stay
the monster eats my time
engorging himself on the
        ever-hastening electronic cucking of the
clock
consuming my days like a teenage boy eating a
pizza.

I have a monster
     and I hope he chokes on sand.