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a poem
by Ted Burke

Stopped watch

A noise you can undress

is revealed by clock hands
moving not a fraction

toward the top of the hour,

During the break, presidents of

lost countries walk down planks

from ships onto Hudson River docks,

confetti blocks the sun,

There are times when it would

be nice to land on an air carrier

dressed up for Halloween,

a President with a plan that won’t fly,

A nation keeps looking at its watch

and wonders why this show isn’t canceled,

why do we keep waiting

for the good guys to arrive,

is there a way to get to the news faster,

To find what happened

while we collected

every image on

digital memory

to be viewed when

there are neither sheep

to be counted nor

rough water to tread?

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