Extendable arms reaching to a fixed boundary in moving time whose undercurrents grease the clock's dynamic interlocking guts while the moments in endless cascade force the works of the Eon Atomic Clock into symmetrical sequence and make way for the procession of its meterless rhythm in whose cluttered basements grow slow gardens of immaculate grinding crystal, the inscrutable macrocosmic pounding that beats in the ears of the living creatures whose lives are all that lies between each and every unbearable ringing of the toothy smiling chimes