| ::12:07:07::
::: Simple Past Time :::
It is so easy to degenerate
to choose not to
clothes pile around the over-flowing laundry basket
this bleeding hangnail; tug to rip off
music sounds like distant fair bells
the air of the room feels still.
A voicemail from a good friend, he is good to call
sitting and sitting/staring and staring
imagining fruitful possibility
pots, pans, plates clutter heavily in the sink
music sounds like great cellos.
Crack my neck, then my knuckles
the solitude of right now
I miss the routines of yester-year;
a newspaper several days old, rests, over there
on a wooden chair folded, still untouched.
Afternoon now, pajamas still:
heavy sweatshirt, loose pants with bears on them
the hours and hours I’ve slept
sleeping! wake; go back to sleep, to sleep
and it feels so easy!
The lag, the sag, those dishes in the sink
how I’ve boosted my tolerance
the world I’ve created is my own.
Written by: ~ Alice Pencavel |
