A Person Turning Into A Broken Clock

While enjoying a meal with friends,
a person turning into a broken clock.

Stuck in a moment, struggling
to be present with each guest

yet only seeing each one as
the sum of past shared experiences.

As time moves forward, 
finding it harder and harder

to move their hands
at appropriate intervals

to illustrate the attention
they are attempting to give

their comrades, each failed
gesture ticking louder and louder.

The hands struggling to move.
Unease spreading through the room,

broken clock losing their appetite,
stumbling to a chair, sitting immobile:

too jammed up
to even speak.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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