Wondering today why we can’t have certain things,
like dodo birds and immortality.
Well, actually it’s just immortality.
For with that you could attain most everything else…
eventually, at least, time being
something that would run by or along, never out.
Something given, and, as such, inconsequential.
Today it’s interminable routines
in which I’m stuck - Nietzsche’s recurrence of the same
in its non-eternal mode, facilitated
by the automobile and the cell phone -
the latter to send myself scolding reminders
of chores in pursuit of which I drove the former
out of the garage before completely
forgetting the purposes I had set out on.
And, with each such cycle of rapt forgetfulness,
I comfort myself with the idea
that meandering is part of relaxation,
and mindlessness, if it serves no ill intention,
the better portion of meandering.
Still, it’s a loss if not a waste of energy.
Today I’m one day older and one day grayer,
yet I’m stuck in these interminable
routines in which I can’t say that I’ve lost myself,
as they seem to have lost themselves so far in me!
You pesky tedia of daily life!
Yes, henceforth I’ll call you my Pesky Tedia!
Go ahead! Find lives of your own in and through me!
Define yourselves in me, and then be gone!
Run by me, run through me, but please don’t run me out!