The Revolving Wormhole

I went shopping for a time machine.
They said, "What? Can't you read the sign?
The time/space fabric store is down the road!"
I said, "OK. fine."
I stepped back out on the sidewalk
But didn't recognize the street.
When I checked my watch, it seems I had lost
forty years, three months and one week!

So I went back to the salesperson.
I said, "Hey lady, what gives?"
She said, "The revolving door is a temporal port."
I said, "Ma'am, that's no fib!"
I demanded my 2093 week-ends back.
She pointed to a sign
that said, NO REFUNDS WILL BE ISSUED;
NOT OF MONEY OR OF TIME.

I said, "You'll be hearing from my lawyer."
She said, "Knock knock." I said, "Who's there?"
She said, "Boo." I said, "Boo who?"
She said, "I'll sell you some fabric softener."
I said, "What would I want that for? My woman
does all the laundry." She said, "So what if
you're a lazy Luke, I'll throw in some
spray starch for free." I said, "I really just
want my lost time back; I ain't getting any
younger!" She said, "Get the hell outta my store,
you son of a one-eyed wonder!!"

Just then there was a terrible noise, like a
chorus of washing machines. A telephone
booth appeared, like the blue ones
they have overseas. And out stepped Dr. Who
making some funny remark, followed by his
newest "assistant", and that weird robotic dog.
He said, "I'd like to help you son, to gain your
heart's desire. I can sell you a used time machine
with just 30 million years on the dial."

But of course, I forgot my wallet. He said I could
pay him in kind. When I asked what he meant
he took out a strange implement, and said
"Just hold still, and I'll extract your mind."
"But I'm still using it!" I protested. And ran into
the phone booth in fear. I hit a random switch,
heard the Time Drive groan, and proceeded
to disappear.

I surfed the timestream willy-nilly
and saw what there is/was to be seen.
I saw some things that would make you sing
and some that were obscene.
I missed the French Revolution, but was there
for Ghettysberg. I break-danced with neanderthals
and chased girls on the Hindenburg.
I saw what becomes of Miami, but it's nothing
like in Futurama. I shook hands with Jesus Christ
and talked to a mutant banana.

And I saw the end of everything,
which takes three billion years.
The Big Bang was much faster;
it's over before it appears.
So, my story has a happy ending
if time travel can be called such
(for the cosmos is shaped like a donut;
the beginnings and endings all touch).
Then go ye forth and multiply, but don't get too uptight
if you walk into a fabric store and loose a few fortnight.