NaPoWriMo Day 9: Clock Dream

by Rachel Creager Ireland

A white clock. Ticking,
which was a bad sign.
I didn’t know that it was a bomb,
but I didn’t know it wasn’t.
Probably it was.

I took it up to my dorm room,
past the annoying frat guys.
What to do, what to do.

I wrestled open a window.
There was a river outside.
If I could throw the clock far enough,
over all those people,
the water might be the safest place
for the bomb to explode.
Not great, even so.

I visualize the successful throw.
When I do it, the clock lands in the water,
but in shallows near the edge,
where a man is standing with a boy.
He moves toward the object, now in flames.

Oh no.