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Argh daylight savings time ends – 2:00 AM November 6th 2022

Hour hands of o'clock get set back 
sixty minutes gaining extra hour of Autumn
round about this same day of November 
every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged 
from this wayfaring chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold 
over sans yesteryear 
(first implemented in United States 
with Standard Time Act of 1918, 

a wartime measure for seven months 
during World War I in the interest 
of adding more daylight hours
to conserve energy resources)
doth rat a tat tat drum
a plain sensation of jet lag 
(with earthling in the balance) 
as if flying backwards 
within Herbert George Wells 
celebrated time machine 

at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride 
invariably finds me 
feeling ticked off and glum 
in no mood to rhyme, nor be funny,
cuz I recall experiencing 
exactly lxii previous instances
being forced to spring ahead,
when countless months before viz
Sunday March 13, 2022 at 2:00 AM

one twenty fourth of said day
surrendered to Father Time
finding yours truly juiced barely equipped 
to cope mentally, physically, 
and spiritually whipsawed tantamount 
with impossible mission 
to get smart and gather scattered wits 
sun tide, and express mood as hoe hum
analogous to coals (essence) 
raked over me noggin

fortunate, this chronological 
seismic shift nada wider I assume,
nevertheless mein kampf 
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics 
comb pluck hated 
brush against jangling 
black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and 
boring into quick 
ribald sand trap doom

mining an inducement 
for emergency convoy, 
when pitched from
sea to figurative shining seagram
defunct company name brand 
once the largest owner 
of alcoholic beverage lines in the world
nsync with Johnnie Walker Scotch
quite the ginned tonic he brewed, 
where live yik yak 
(going tiktok) wired vanguard 

trulia tried optimism to hum
a lively Irish air, cuz I 
(Bailey) of Bailey Banks & Biddle
the crown jewel scion
scion of a wealthy family
swallowed down sorrow
regarding cremains of mother 
her inert ashes boxed 
for more'n an (eat turn) eternity 
like talcum powder went – me mum
Chris Anne her namesake

bling bloviation, emasculation, 
insinuation, nomination, termination
once worth matchless peerage, 
now pitched numb
skull into morass 
of temporary confusion, where plumb 
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, 
when athwart pilot rum
dire straits found motley crue bickering 
where Lilliputians slum

bring wherein Gulliver's Travels
landed me upon islets of langerhans 
(endocrine cells scattered 
throughout the pancreas)
defiantly, ham-handedly, liberally thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul 
weeknd viz a bully did cower,
hence mister clock, 
who got hijacked to Cuba
3600 seconds per hour

experienced head, thorax 
and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable 
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes of wrath imposing 
ill fitting sea legs, 
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, 
quickly resoundingly surrendered, 
and back slid vis a vis 
space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole (sun) event horizon indeed 
kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon 
of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
pesky quirky shenanigans 
toying with chronometers 
counter point of view shifted 
to oppose this minute accord.
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