Time and His Little Sister

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

For you I’ll climb the highest wall
And cut my hands on broken glass,
Left there by sadistic owners who
Protect their private hell with cruelty.
For you I’ll even steal a car, if I only
Knew how to drive, and do foul deeds
Like squashing flies with my thumb
And eating a spoonful of maggots.
But not after five o’clock, then I want
To sit in my bar, drink a Lone Star
And watch a clock that keeps going
The wrong way around, until it grasps
The time when you’re nine and a half
And I was eleven.