Monday, February 22, 2016


life can be lived in increments,
of ten minutes, or thirty, or five
or twenty.
I can sleep for eight hours.
I slog through work in 35 minute increments
in the morning, when I'm fresh,
with much anticipated 5 minute breaks,
the alarm sounds like a car horn,
shocking me into submission
to the clock.
ten minutes of French,
thirty minutes of flute,
fifteen minutes collecting fallen leaves
he says I shake if I don't get to it
but that's a lie,
only if I don't write a poem,
in less than 5 minutes.

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