I Wish I were the God of Clocks

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    I Wish I were the God of Clocks

    I wish were the god of clocks
    So that I could stop the old man's hands anytime I want
    And make them move as fast as the speed of light
    Or as slow as the abandoned celebrity carabaos of the metro
    So that I could twist his hands with absolute liberty
    Reverse Earth's perpetual revolution
    And suspend the natural laws of time
    If I were the god of clocks, regrets would haunt me no more
    For I would have full power to control Y and Z
    And abuse them for my perfection's sake
    I wish I were the god of clocks

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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