The Clock Radio Poem by John F. McCullagh

Unwelcome and unbidden
You break into my dream
You rouse my still hung over brain
And make me want to scream.

Four forty in the morning
I’m not enthused to view.
Not even” snooze” begins to soothe
The hate I feel for you.

I could have slept through music
Ignored a talk show too
But your blasted beeping buzzing
Always bores right through


I reach across to silence you
You foul and thoughtless thing
For God sakes it’s my one day off
What possessed you now to ring?