8 hours for work
8 hours for rest
8 hours for what we will
24 hours for what we will
It isn't hard after labor to search for music,
Trace lines in these tiles,
But what you're saying is suspect.
Go ahead and hang up on the boss.
It's 2pm & my concept of time spits on meaning.
Take in air to clear the scrolling lines & collect
Water on the temple.
I tell myself I have to produce these lines to be productive.
Subway pulls up,
Get wrapped around yourself,
Lean into motion,
Catch the quiet end of shifts kicking boots into the aisles.
A wilhelm scream,
Stops announced between sunflower seeds & gossip.
I alternate like a broken switch.
Recovery starts with a phone call,
Starts with adrenaline,
Starts with crimson staircases stacked on myth.
Scaffold watch tower grabbing siren echoes,
Today I have a great joy in doing nothing.