Friday, 10 October 2014

Times Drags By Real Slow

It would be true to say that I haven't written a poem for a few months. I don't mind that at all and, if I don't, then I'm fairly sure nobody else does.
Ideas need to suggest themselves. I'm not in the habit of seeking them out. But this week I did realize that this odd little piece of observation of social interaction could be a poem. I'm not offended that some people give off signals that suggest they find me a dull conversationalist. But I wouldn't be talking if I didn't think it worth saying and, if you wait until the end of the story, it might turn out to have a worthwhile punchline at the end.
But, no matter. This poem is probably no collector's item. You might find yourself checking your watch after the first two lines.


Time Drags By Real Slow 

I start to talk and then they check their watch,
It seems I’ve already kept them too long.
They see eternity begin again. 

How do they know that what I’m going to say
Is going to bore them quite as much as that.
I start to talk and then they check their watch. 

Perhaps what I said last time is enough
For them to know that this time all they’ll do
Is see eternity begin again. 

How can my anecdotes be so mundane
That time drags just as soon as I start one.
I start to talk and then they check their watch. 

Friends, colleagues and strangers have all done it,
One even at a Buxtehude gig
Who saw eternity begin again. 

If they’re not interested, neither am I,
And so I have not rhymed this villanelle.
I start to talk and then they check their watch. 

So, next time I try to tell you something
That you suspect is going to be dull,
When I start to talk, please don’t check your watch.
You’ll see eternity begin again.