My Watch Tells Me I’m Dead
It’s hard to believe my demise,
but when my watch says my heart
has ceased to beat, who am I to argue.
I paid so much for superior technology
I have to have faith in the product,
the IT crowd are geniuses after all.
When my watch tells me my blood
oxygen is zero, it makes sense
since there has been no breath
recorded since I put it on today.
A non-existent wrist temperature
must make me walking dead,
since although frozen, I am still walking.
My sleep duration sensor tells me
I have not woken nor slept,
no REM, core nor deep. I must be dead.
I will go out soon, look for an open grave,
lie down and try to have a little sleep.
It will save a lot of trouble later.
Rohan Buettel lives in Canberra, Australia. His haiku appear in Australian and international journals (including Presence, Cattails and The Heron’s Nest). His longer poetry appears in various journals, including Rattle, Unleash Lit, Meanjin, Meniscus and Quadrant.