This Morning

Sleepy,

Bleary eyed.

The sun streaming in the window,

Wakes me with its warmth.

I’m dragging,

Unmotivated,

Much to do,

But bored to tears.

My neck is sore,

and my back aches.

The children won’t be here this weekend,

they are snowed in.

I want to be excited,

to feel alive,

so long as there isn’t much effort to it.

Amuse me.

Something happen, please.

My God,

I’ve become lazy,

Fat,

Brain dead.

I think I must have gotten old last night.

L.

2/3/96

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