Time Just Disappears When Having Fun

Doggerel Dave

At 3.10 pm the atmosphere in Courtroom No 2 is heavy, humid. Apparently a storm was forecast. Magistrate James McNeill has dispensed justice to a variety of miscreants and malcontents: two serious driving offenses in which alcohol was a contributory factor, the breach of an AVO. He further dealt, he hoped adequately, with three men of dark complexion and obvious aboriginality on separate but remarkably similar charges of obscene language, bought to the court’s attention, some would argue, by an overzealous constabulary.


There is a pause in the proceedings while the Police Prosecutor arranges papers referring to a number of potential adjournments and two non-appearances, one of which is lost somewhere in the prison system. This allows the magistrate a moment to consult his diary.


The swing doors at the back of the room open and a youngish man in well worn overalls with photo ID firmly attached to his belt enters carrying a stepladder. He bows to the bench and continues his journey to the side of the courtroom, where, utilizing the steps and with only minimal difficulty detaches the wall clock. Retreating, he bows once more to the bench and carries both ladder and clock through the rear doors without further pause.


The clock is described in the inventory as J. DENT OF LONDON, CIRCA 1840 WITH MAHOGANY CASE. Neither it nor the youngish man in overalls and ID are ever seen in the vicinity of the court again, although sometime during that same night, the stepladder rematerializes in front of the Courthouse’s ornate doors.


So bow and out with clock and ladder.

(Court staff have hopes for a speedy return)

No challenge was made over this matter -

Nothing to consider, nothing to learn.


No one took the responsibility

For a clock just vanished without return;

Gone was J Dent’s clock from 1840

No one was talking, felt nothing to learn.


  • Author: Doggerel Dave (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 19th, 2021 23:19
  • Comment from author about the poem: An era of relaxed carefree security, definitely earlier than today. Central theme here is the basis of a number of apocryphal tales, not to mention it’s utilization in many a stage illusion. This is my version.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 35


  • Doggerel Dave

    And Jack the Lad (q.v.) has teamed up with a pair of criminal pranksters (read fraudsters, con men)…. This was his apprentice piece. Apparently they form a good team. However he is now silent. When or if he resurfaces and starts to talk again I’ll let you know….

  • Gary Edward Geraci

    Dave, did you create both the prose and the poetry?

    • Doggerel Dave

      Yes Gary. I don't plagiarise - All copy not mine gets proper attribution or quotation marks if the words are so well known that there can be no ambiguity. Survey my back catalogue - who wrote that if not me?
      I do find the question slightly offensive, but as I get up people's noses at fairly regular intervals, I shan't be holding it against you 🙂

      • Gary Edward Geraci

        It was not my intent to offend - I leave that task to my poetry. A remarkable piece of work!

      • 1 more comment

      • Neville

        The marriage between prose & poem work extremely well here .. no illusion .. just a matter of fact and my own perception .......................... Neville

        • Doggerel Dave

          Thanks Neville. Perception, Illusion and reality - the great conundrum. This has been, and sometimes still is, one of my preoccupations. From there it is possible to go wild in all manner of directions, including , for me a love of stage illusions.

        To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.