I live

 

I live

in earshot

of Heslington

Hall. At night,

I hear

 

the clock

strike the hours.

They have replaced

the gears and

the bell;

 

now it’s

synthesized.

I no longer

imagine

or hear

 

whirs, clanks,

gaps, errors.

It’s all correct,

uniform,

pleasant.

 

***

 

I think:

this is not

how time passes.

This is no

longer

 

a clock;

it’s a pat

on the head, meant

to assure us

that all

 

is well

when it’s not.

And why should we

not embrace

a clank?

 

***

 

A clank,

different, asks

that we give it

love. A clank

is an

 

alien,

paperless,

in a land of

music’s rich

pure tones.

 

***

 

Welcome

the clank. Take

it in; make room;

change your world

for its.

 

I’m sure

someone meant

well. Someone thought

I would sleep

better

 

without

clanks, whirs, gaps.

But why should I

sleep better?

Wake up!

***

 

Before,

I could choose

experience

and all that

is not

 

certain.

Now, without

refugees, clanks,

whirs, gaps, flaws,

I am

 

consigned

to a world

of correctness.

It becomes

harder

 

to meet,

discover,

experience,

and love. What

a loss!

 

 

William Brooks

September 20, 2017