The Snail Called Time by Yours Truly

click click click go the

claws across the floor.

tick tick tick

go the paws bound in yore.

Time doesn’t stop; it

must never sit still, and

the past, present, and

future drink up their fill, and

as a single thought stumbles

through his head,

he climbs up the counter while

it’s forced into bed.

The thought was this,

drifting far from his mind:

gravity is salt

to the snail that is Time

as moments become minutes

and centuries span seconds,

only it was aware of

the memories that beckoned

him to come and play, that

held him in dreams.

Swirling beneath him,

the water whispered screams,

but a rat has no right to own

such things or to think, and

by the calculating hands of fear

he’s flung straight into the sink.

For the task placed upon him

there is time no more,

as the sewage fills his battered

and broken body to the core

He’s pulled down the drain, dripping with divinity,

and lays in his home forever as

The Sunken Rat of Infinity