It's a Good Excuse

My neighbor thinks I'm lazy, and he
May be right. I guess I am. He gets
Up every morning, shaves, puts on
A suit, and drives to work, and, there,
He issues orders, goes to meetings,
Reads and writes reports. He golfs
And runs in his spare time. I go to
Work before he does, and issue
Orders only to myself. I lift and
Push and lug, but not for very long.
I'm home before the morning's
Done, and afterward I simply sit.
I've had some jobs which were like
His. I've put on suits and worked
All day, but felt I'd better things to
Do. How many millions are there
In this country who are just like him?
They do their parts to further commerce,
Tend their lawns, and golf and
Run, and kiss their wives, and
Purchase things. They don't make
Art. They can't. I can, so, though
It's fair to call me lazy, I am doing
Something very few know how
To do.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 69 times
Written on 2015-09-10 at 16:52

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text