On Something Like My 22,885th Day of Life

A gray dawn arrives, a day without promise.
A list of tasks I ought to take on lays upon
The kitchen table: monument to pointlessness.
Each one undone won't lead to ruin. Each
Done simply makes a place for one more,
Also meaningless. The wife will call to check
My progress. I will plod and watch the
Clock, the thought of someone's endless absence
Reappearing, like the pain which jabs my poorly
Postured back. At five, I'll stop and begin
Drinking, putting lines through, executing,
Four or five things on the list (enough to
Satisfy the wife). I'll face the ones which
Have survived and the replacements for
The dead, and my absurd, enduring
Longing in the morning, when I rise
To face another gray, unwanted dawn.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 72 times
Written on 2016-05-31 at 13:38

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