I had a dream–’twas so sublime, I lingered in my bed,
The sweet phantasmagoria still swirling in my head,
And when, at length, the sun came up and finally made me perk,
I rubbed my eyes and realized that I was late for work.
The rummage sale clock I’d bought had prompted my dismay,
For twelve o’clock was blinking on its digital display.
My boss would soon discredit my occasion to be late:
An electrical malfunction I could not substantiate!
I called him up and told him–just a week since I’d been hired–
I said that I was sorry, and he said that I was fired.
So now I need a rummage sale to pay the bills and such;
I want five dollars for the clock–I hope it’s not too much.