News
Can I come home with good news for
once?
Can I roam along without blues to
announce?
A joy scavenger fiddling among the
scraps,
A lost wanderer in search of a
different map.
I rescue seconds from to-do lists
But lose hours to rush requests.
There is no order in command,
Only a command, an order and occasional
reprimands.
Task by task and job by job
A lack of sense in their dialogue.
Petition here, project there,
Nothing important, as if there ever
were.
Like a spider, I reach into the web,
In search of life or some sunlight,
Or some other welcome contact instead.
But my report alas,
Gets lost within a glass,
Of a spirit that cleanses,
Of a liquid that steals,
The memory of a lost day,
In hope to pay bills.
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