Fuzzy Alarm Clock / by Brian Kunde

Fuzzy Alarm Clock
by Brian Kunde

Its mechanism sleeps the day,
But with the night, it’s time to play,
Spring to the bed, and tread repose
To tatters under lancet toes—
Then knead the shoulder, nose the ear,
And rumble in it, ever near
While molding round the head above—
Transfer down, if there’s a shove.

Curl again between the knees,
And should defense recur there, seize
The chance to hunt and harry feet,
And only if they kick retreat.
The clock’s well-oiled, springs tight wound,
And none can slumber through its sound.
Its efficacy none could scoff—
Just tell me how to turn it off!

* * * * *

Fuzzy Alarm Clock

from Adrift in the Wreckage : Poems, 1st ed., Dec. 2011.

1st web edition posted 1/6/2012.