I got home from work and looked at 
my watch and it said 
Ten to five, so I did the washing and 
picked some greens and tidied up the 
kitchen and sat down and had a cup of coffee, 
and looked at my watch and still it said 
Ten to five, so I did some ironing and 
made the beds and thought Hell I might 
get all the housework done in one day 
for a change, then looked at my watch 
but nope, no change, and I turned on the 
radio and it said Ten to five, so 
I cleaned the bathroom like mad and 
picked some flowers and wrote some 
letters and some cheques and scrubbed 
the kitchen floor and got started on the 
windows – by this time I was getting a bit 
desperate I can tell you, I was thinking 
alternately Yay! soon there’ll be no more to 
do and I’ll be free, and Jeez what if I 
RUN OUT? I did in fact run out, and out, 
and out, past the church clock saying 
Ten to five and the cat on the corner with 
big green eyes ticking away, and up into the 
sky past the telephone wires, and 
up into the blue, watchless, matchless, timeless 
cloud-curtains, where I hide, and 
it is silent, silent. 

This work is not my own. 

First published Cilla McQueen 2004. This version from NZEPC 2020.