Wednesday, March 30, 2011


Tick, tick, tick-tick-tick,
the rhythm sticks in my head,
so sick, tick-tick-tick.

Kinda waltzy, always schmaltzy,
playing as backbeat to every feat
I attempt to conquer. In my ear

tick, tick, tick-tick-tick,
life at a metered beat, sweet
syncopation of this celebration,

high elation and a quick
tick-tick-tick. Slick in its
cyclical pattern, mechanical toe tappin'

Keeps me at an even keel, a real
chance to keep pace with the rat race
and face the challenges I pick,

tick, tick, tick-tick-tick,
the rhythm sticks in my heart
great way to start the day. Tick.

1 comment:

  1. The steady tick-tock beat of the wooden box sitting atop the piano is captured well in this poem, Walt.
    Your metaphoric use of this item puts a positive spin on the metronome, an object that holds a more pressured presence in my memory of piano practices for Conservatory exams! Scary!