Robin Boothroyd

On the wall hangs an intricate
diagram akin to Dalí’s
Raphaelesque Head Exploding.
It shows the workings of a watch
suspended like a deck of cards
between a magician’s fingers.
Dotted lines straight as vapour trails
guide the eye down through the levels,
helping them to build in the mind
the image of a watch with ease.

Opposite the wall stands a desk.
Its drawers house a nest of watches
which softly whisper polyrhythms.
Beside them hangs a grey leather
trough to catch any tumbling
mechanisms. When William
sits down, it is almost to dine:
his knurled tools act like cutlery,
and the leather – stiff as starched cloth -
covers his lap like a napkin.