Imran Boe Khan: July 2020 Poet of the Month
Photo: Joanna C. Valente

Photo: Joanna C. Valente

Beat the Clock

I used to host an imaginary gameshow. I should tell you, knowing the answers was
immensely comforting. There’s nothing to fear about living if you don’t ask where
everyone goes when the last round stops, after our universe’s final heartbeat, the time

when God gets angry with the world again and the internet forgets all its lines, when
knowing too much shrivels up our atmosphere, when there’s no place to put the
buzzers, when all you once loved won’t come with a reward. You’d walk outside with
everything no longer possible - inside and out of your head. The last sunlight will
retreat into the rock as the world burns. Don’t stay for the bayou. Don’t stay for the
river. Bones are our mystery prizes - the things we are, the things we pretend we’re
more than. We think we know the answers as we look them up on our phones. The
points shine florescent on our laps, we won’t beat this game any other way.


Imran Boe Khan is a reluctant chicken whisperer based in Dorset. His work has recently appeared, or is forthcoming, in the Rumpus, Rust+Moth, The Indianapolis Review, Menacing Hedge, Juked and Heavy Feather Review. Khan is a previous winner of the Thomas Hardy Award.