Publication Date: March, 2020
Location: In the PoetsOnline archive, under ‘Time Passes‘.
Genesis: The prompt was to write about the passing of time, but using some measure or metric unique to me. This gave me a good excuse to write a poem about something that I have genuinely been doing for about twelve years now; tracking my age in months, often quoting my age in months, and occasionally celebrating when I reach a particularly significant or interesting number.
Watching my son grow into a toddler, I got to wondering… When do we stop saying his age in months? 18 months is widely used. 22 months? Probably. 45 months? Not so much. Curiosity drove me To work out how many months old I was; 523 at the time. Now, on the 18th, whenever I remember, I celebrate my birthday. For my 555th, I had a big party. Last month, I turned 666. The Number of the Beast. I considered another party, this time satanically themed, But thought better of it. It might be asking for trouble. Next month, instead, I’m going to throw a 668th birthday party; 668: The Neighbour of the Beast.