Two of my bird clocks are busted and can't tell
time. I must reluctantly send them to the nether
basura regions.
Never forget, my two cuckoo clocks, that they are
not long the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty
dream our path emerges for a while and then closes
within a dream.
No hay un mal que por bien no venga. Ustedes ni
siquiera una sola vez dejaron para mañana lo que
podrían haber hecho de inmediato. Agarraron las
astas de la vida. Que les vaya muy bien, etcetera,
etcetera... .
You measured time as warriors and we shall not soon
forget ye all or is it ye both? Farewell, faithful
time pieces, valiant clocks. I will not say do not
weep, for all tears are not an evil. This is but a
single click of the cosmic, celestial chronometer.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
Do not go as a gentile into that good night, etc.
etc.
Mice have run up and down the both of you for the
very last time!
You served us well!
CLOCK HANDS
On
January 6, 2018, I woke up and looked at my clock
through blurry eyes. 1:30 AM it said. I turned on
the TV. There was a beer on the TV stand. A Negra
Modelo. I popped it open and watched a little TV.
When I was through with the beer, I turned off the
TV and was fixin' to go to sleep when I saw light
coming in the window.
It
was Seven Thirty. The minute and hour hands are so
close to the same size that I never know what time
it is. The hands look exactly the same.
To
solve this problem I went to target. What I saw
there told me that my prayers had been answered:
Clock Backwards Mulligan's
Saloon.jpg