Tag: work

Date Checking

When a delver reads the bones,
They wind from the extremities
Like turning over a stone,
Knapping toward the centerpiece.
The rites hold puzzles in their hunt:
To rearrange the years on their track.
Often the first must go to the back
And the last be brought up front.
The calendar's order is traced
To right shelves in their proper season,
Ostensibly preventing waste.
Donating what's least unfresh is righteous,
Though we know the real reason:
Insurance claims and tax write-offs.

Expiration Dates

I check the first one and I check
The final one; if they're the same
It takes little time to inspect
The others, they're out of the game.
Often we see dates far ahead
Or dates looming, just vaguely near.
Many times it's this very year,
But also there are dates long dead
Which our auguries discover.
Old pharmaka now poisonous,
Lying in wait, danger smothered
Among others where what's transpired 
Few notice in a choice amiss.
Prophecies of our goods expired.

He’s Isolated

He's isolated, without friends,
And then I realize so am I.
Employment gives me my supply
Of socialization, but spends
It on itself; likewise upends
Plans with Hayden or with Chris. Lives
Provide obligations to tie
Each one of us to his own lens.

It may be truly as he grieves,
A shared act of creation must
Be made for his friendship to leave
The dungeon of his spirit's rust.
He needs saving from desuetude;
He works too hard to rest unviewed.

Rain at Work

You love to hear the sky in
 tumult, grimly booming
  in the morning overhead.

The rustling curtains
 of showers whipped
  over the trees and roadways,

Spilling through commerce's 
 arteries, washing away
  a few would-be commutes,

Pattering upon the roof,
 and the few times the doors open,
  echoing from the street,

Mixes with the buzzing
 freezer hum drowning
  the consumer pop out.

Hallelujah!
 the peace of white noise,
  a fleeting wave of bliss.

A siren cuts the drone,
 emergencies arising
  from a wet road perhaps.

What's the price of my leisure
 when I'm supposed to be working?

I suppose I should
 prefer them in here to out there
  if it's a question of danger.

Either way work
 will be slow;
  rain rain go away,

Come again another day;
 probably come every day,
  but at least I'm off tomorrow.

I guess that just means I
 can enjoy the rain 
  without getting paid to do it.

We do whatever we do,
 it dwindles to a drizzle,
  the sun swells like business.

People come and go,
 time mercifully quickens,
  sirens continue to travel.

The clock is a sliding scale
 moving from negotiation
  in public to private and back.

A smile is a worthy tool, makes
 things easy; easy things
  don't last long.

About Us

Struggle's wage daily
Denigrates so wholly,
One slogs away dully 
For sustenance solely.

But what is lifestyle
If inertly cold steel;
Rather be a leaf: still,
Humbly held, yet genteel.

How many millions
Of years flown like gallons
Through waterfalls, hellions'
Unstoppable talons!

Lives beyond number,
Each unique in timbre,
Awake as an ember
Slumbering in amber.

Something Sure

Something sure is not so near 
Hunting thoughts grasp its allure.
Seeming rather very far,
Streams of wrath come curse the cure.

Despairing to make some more,
Who cares will break, squirm, and stir
Daily grinds year after year
Praying to find something sure.