I went to bed last night (on a Saturday) at 9:30 p.m.
Sunday, I’m awake at 5:00 a.m., too early to flush the toilet
(a 6-hour wait, can I wait, of course I can wait)
‘cept I forget,
and the Foaming Root Killer fails to flush
and instead rises high and spreads
up and all over the floor.
Back to bed, please.
Later, maybe, better results ahead.
I sleep too late and miss most of my favorite Sunday morning
my weekly uplifting watch-what-other-people-do TV show
about their art, their music, their writing, (missed that one, slept too late)
all the happy news I wish to absorb.
So I say,
on my agenda,
spring is in my air.
Yet I delay.
I do not pee,
I do not cleanse
no water down the drain
breakfast, (probably a good idea)
empty already-emptied boxes,
sweep barren and rotting floors,
air out the rugs
Kill time until noon.
At noon, exactly, the day will begin
to descend and cease to rise.
A downward descent
rather than a climb.
“Why,” is mostly the question these days.
Why anything at all?
Wondering the difference between
a rise and a fall.