I remember
as a child
seeing him dangle
from the hands
of a clock.
His frantic legs
his round spectacles
his oddly lipsticked mouth
and that straw boater
with the wide silk band.
Below him
in the grey
flickering
street
horseless carriages and trams
filmed at sixteen frames a second
careered around
at twenty four.
And I remember looking at that clock
and thinking:
it's a quarter to three
on a sunny afternoon
a hundred or so years ago.
But it was really only forty.
