Time is a Snake

On Skype, in the wee hours:
[03:02:33] lifelessons: oops.  how did it get to be 3 AM?
[03:03:01] okcforgottenman: Time is a snake.
[03:03:29] lifelessons: now that is a blog for you!
[03:03:55] okcforgottenman: Maybe a mutual challenge?

The Muse blindsided me, taking clattering control of my rum-drunk fingertips. As I watched astonished, those four words appeared on my screen.

                    Time is a Snake

In this time of smartphones, a wristwatch
(by now an artifact, but mine)
curls upward with an awkward grace
on the end of my bony arm
to show me time and date and weekday.
I hiss my response to your “You got the time?”.
Subways are the worst, slithering beneath the city.
People! Asking the time! My time! Hsssssss.
Time is a snake, but it is my snake.

---

You can read Judy’s response here.

I’d love to see what some of you would (will?) write using the same prompt. Please?

(I’m intrigued by this bony-armed serpent-obsessed misanthropic cellphone-eschewing narrator fellow that the Muse put into my head & out again through my fingertips (fingersnakes?). I think I want to explore his (lack of?) character in some more blog posts. He seems to me a bit like a Batman comic villain without the backbone, or perhaps a muggle version of Voldemort.)