Celebrate Responsibility

posted in: baby, change, daily poem, poetry, work | 0

Back home before the fireworks,because I have a babyand babies are not freedom.Lets have fireworks on Labor Day and Mother’s Day and Father’s Day,and maybe not so late at night,to celebrate responsibility.

Picking Up My Own Slack

posted in: daily poem, poetry, vice, work | 0

Picking up my own slackis worse than that of someone else.There’s no superior feeling.There’s no pride if I were to tell“Yeah, I didn’t do it then,so today I did it double.”No, there’s just a nagging feelinglike I’ve gotten into trouble.


posted in: daily poem, health, poetry, work | 0

There comes a timein a building’s lifewhen you start to comparedemolition and repair.For a building,there is no such thing asaging gracefully,dying with any scrap of dignity.Only scraps of scrap.Because a building is not alive.These bricks are not like cells;they don’t … Continued

Except Rest

posted in: daily poem, poetry, rest, work | 0

I always have something to do,but I’m not as busy as you.So if you need someone to help,I gladly would offer myself,although you seem to do it all bestwhen you do it yourself (except rest).

Do More

posted in: daily poem, poetry, work | 0

There is a voice that says, “Do more, do more”and that these things should all be done by now.This voice would be so easy to ignore if its lie weren’t also true somehow.


posted in: daily poem, poetry, work | 0

My list of things to do todayis long but not quite done.I need to add “start” to the list–this task’s the hardest one.

A Different Smelling Spring

posted in: daily poem, nature, poetry, work | 0

A different smelling spring–served quite chilled, then warmed quickly,with notes of melting snowsweet and earthy on the nose,this spring has woody undertones:fresh-aged ash, maple, oak, and pine,the neighborhood filled with sawdust fine.


posted in: daily poem, poetry, work | 0

The washing machine is churning awaywhich means I’m getting-stuff-done today.I may be slouchedupon the couchbut I’m being productive, wouldn’t you say?

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