My heart tick tocks like a grandfather clock,

driven by energy that moves the tides

and lights the stars. Minute by minute,

planetary emissions sally forth,

deciphering hieroglyphics

in the contours of my heart

One glance in a mirror reveals

the ravages of time. Smelling of age,

I’m a bleached version of who I used to be.

Chimes tremble, thawing the frozen hush

of my sleep, reminding me to pee,

and waking me in the morning for work.

Cherubs on my clock hands tell my stomach

when to swallow food without a feeding tube.

Bran untangles the knots, and wangles

rapid transit, charging through my gut

for a friendly sphincter in the morning.

The rhythmic clicks of a dusty pendulum,

step up to the plate, never missing a beat,

to remind me that now is the time

to heal the scars of love.

Main springs of my heart creak and twang,

brass gears swirl in the ravine of my innards,

and slow down to a whisper of movement.

Tachycardia is not my game, no chest pain,

or bleed in the brain. But, if lightening strikes

my heart, I’ll have to roll over and grow cold.

What am I doing with my life?

The living fire of happiness

is all I ever wanted.

When my clock winds down,

and my soul leaves my body,

it will tick tock till the end of time.