Runaway Slump

You wind down like a toy clock,
Like a worn-out battery
No longer holding much charge.

Someone is winning prizes
For sonnets, good old sonnets!
Rock pigeons hoot on the line.

You have to go pack the car.
You’ve got just so many hours.
If you don’t leave soon, the gas

Will cost too much for escape.
You’ll be trapped. Trapped! Already
You’re trapped. Always, you were trapped.

Ah, sonnets, good old sonnets.
Time to rise and get on it.