I am addicted to watch advertisements.
Closeups of gears, metal, lugs, and leather
call to me and descriptions of the art
of timepieces blow me away,harkening back
to when Ogilvy knew how to tell a story.
I feel an inexplicable connection to watches
so I stare, loving the faces, different styles,
the bits of history, the mechanics.
Time porn. I am addicted.
Like Charlie Chaplin trapped as a cog
but happily so, where time is irrelevant,
moving like a river -somewhere, anywhere –
the story of a watch feels luxurious
and the cadence of my breath changes
as I imagine being Rosalind Russell
sparring with Cary Grant, or a code breaker,
or someone with somewhere to go.
The Word Rummager 
Leave a comment