it needs to be done,
the dishes, the tools still slightly coated in mud
in the back yard on a shelf waiting to be covered in snow
in a couple days, the rust is settling in
for the long term.
my body doesn't move in that direction, not
towards the fan that needs to
pull air from a sodden basement,
Scratchy told me how to do it, why isn't he
here to do it.
the book lies on the shelf, unopened, I don't
even check to see whether it's lies, or lays, I never
remember, do you.
Laziness with a capital L has settled in, only a
timer demands that I keep practicing Hindemith
and that other guy, the composer that
starts with a T, I think, I'm too lazy to
look.
The cushion on this old chair needs to be fixed,
I need to make my lunch for tomorrow,
my laundry basket is overflowing.
Tomorrow, manana, demain
is soon enough.
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1 comment:
Scratchy is just full of "good advice", or something else. It's not clear.
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