There was a guy I knew
with a joke clock on the wall
that told time old-school.
By hand, except - and the joke's
here, if any: the big hand was a penis,
and so was the other one. He remarked
on it (it was the first I heard about
the clock, I didn't know what he
was talking about), insisting
they were the same dick
in different states. I was like
"What?" then followed his pointing
digit, confused by his broad grin.
I saw the clock. It was twenty to
one. Nice odds, I figured. "I bet
you're right. It very well could be."
When I came back next time, I
looked to see what time it was
and said "Hey! Your clock's hands
are made out of dicks!" I thought
he must have just got it. The time
before, I misunderstood what he
was getting at. The pieces fit
eventually, but I still don't know
what made him so sure about
the hands. To be frank, they were
sort of cartoonish. Not too terribly
realistic. Maybe somebody thought
it was funnier that way. Anyway
I was just kidding. There never was
such a guy. I just made him up
to explain the clock
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Thursday, September 17, 2020
joke clock
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