n. A machine of great moral value to man, allaying his concern for the future by reminding him what a lot of time remains to him.  

—Ambrose Bierce 

Hung first in memory on elementary school walls 
circular, black and white god, master of bells  

I command subjects, turn math to English, history  
to lunch, govern teachers and students alike in  

my slow crawl through middle and high school 
periods. I answer the morning’s first question  

am the last concern at night. You set me 
then upset me with daily, flailing strikes  

snooze through thirty years of careers 
where you first learn I can be a verb—  

each quarter hour turned to quarters, then  
dollars—then retirement and too little time   

for the part-time Edwin Watts job, favorite  
pastimes, before Alzheimer’s seals its fist  

transforms me to a bracelet on your wrist. 

Jill Michelle's honors include the 2023 NORward Prize for Poetry and a Best of the Net nomination for the title poem of her debut collection, Underwater (Riot in Your Throat, 2025). Her latest poems are forthcoming in Black Coffee Review, Lips Poetry Magazine, Molecule: A Tiny Lit Mag and Poetry Breakfast. She teaches at Valencia College in Orlando, Florida. Find more of her work at byjillmichelle.com.