I built a machine, a real work of art,
With gears and with circuits (and one shopping cart).
I flipped on the switch with a confident grin,
Then sneezed, tripped a lever, and spiraled within.
I landed in Rome, year forty-two,
Where togas were trending and hygiene was new.
I tried to explain I was lost in the past,
But Latin is tricky when spoken too fast.
They called me a demon (which felt pretty rude),
Then tied me up swiftly, real hands-on dudes.
Some guy with a laurel said, “Feed him to beasts!”
And I thought, “Ah, well, could’ve landed in Greece.”
I fled to the portal, all the gift unearned and all speed,
(Or at least how one flees when in sandals and tweed).
I mashed at the buttons and vanished again,
And landed face-first in a war among men.
A cannonball whizzed an inch from my head
I dove in a trench and played very dead.
A soldier yelled, “Spy!” (again with the slurs!)
Then grabbed at my arm as I flailed in the dirt.
With desperate precision, I reached for the dial,
And blipped out of sight with a curse and a smile.
I thought, “Third time’s charm!” but oh, what a twist
I popped out in Kansas, smack into a fist.
A cowboy named Clint with a gut full of rage
Declared that I’d “done him a grave sabotage.”
I never met Clint (at least, I don’t think),
But he aimed at my gut like a man who don’t blink.
I dodged like a dancer (I flailed like a fish),
Then hit my machine with a desperate wish.
It sparked and it fizzled, it whined and it shook
And dumped me back home in my own backyard nook.
I kissed the old grass, I howled at the stars,
Then saw that my house was now run by llamas.
A sign on the porch said, “Welcome to Bruce!”
I knocked on the door, but they called the caboose.
Turns out I had meddled (though I wasn’t sure how),
And somehow replaced my whole bloodline with cows.
So next time you tinker with time and its path,
Remember this tale and do basic math.
Leave a Reply