Of Happier Mornings

My eyes flew open at 6:29am.
Immediately I looked at the clock.
For a few seconds
A showdown occurred.
Man vs. neon technology.

An unmentioned,
Never taught classic struggle.

6:30am
“This is Dan the Morning Man
Coming to you through the black box
At the end of your bed in your room
And boy is it cold outside!
If you’re still asleep,
Wake u-!“
I leapt from the bed with the fury
And speed

Of a disturbed hornet’s nest.
I grabbed the clock by its hips
And it looked at me,
Sad, red neon eyes.
“Please, don’t hurt me.
I’m just the messenger.”
It tried to reason with me,

And I began to feel sorry for it
And all other alarm clocks.
They can’t help it,
It’s in their genes,
Their electronic make-up.

I gently placed the alarm clock down,
And was already half asleep,

Almost back in bed,

When the clock’s snooze alarm
Betrayed its innocence.
I heard a barely audible, “Oh shit”


Like the whisper
Of the Ghost
Of Morning’s Past.

I picked up the clock
And broke it into
One thousand neon and black plastic pieces.
And as it lay there in shattered shards

Of happier mornings

It muttered its final warning:
“Don’t let the door hit you
In the ass
As you’re leaving late for work.”