<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d16851663\x26blogName\x3dBurton+Speaks\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_HOSTED\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://www.walkingsaint.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://www.walkingsaint.com/\x26vt\x3d-1892815651864643552', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Interlude with desperation

Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Alarm goes off, hit the snooze, hit it again
Stumble out of bed, wash, dry, dress, pop some pills
I eat on the go, I'm late, I dash to the car

The commute, stuck in traffic, listen to the news, war everywhere, politicians lie
The daily grind, living for someone else.
Dress code, service code, error code
Answering phones, serving, waiting, talking, selling, buying
Meetings, decisions, budgets, lunchtime interactions, earning a paycheck
Who are these people around me?

More commute, traffic, horns, sirens, more news,
Plunging stock market, layoffs, scandals
Finger pointing across the globe as thousands die
And I listen to it in my glass and metal cage
Planning my next vacation.

The evening comes, the part of the day that belongs to me
Look to the sky and wonder about God
Look inside and wonder about me
How do I spend my time? What do I do?
Work out, play hard, see friends, do projects
Fix things, extra work, family, errands, dinner, reading
Take out the trash, put in the laundry, empty the dishwasher and load it again.

Later, the seeds of fatigue crawl through my head
Finally, every night, exhausted
A little death. What tomorrow?


Blogger The Infinite Jester said...

Holy sweet jesus, man. That was brilliant! How could you hide this poetic genius from me.

Damn...I'm totally blown away.

2:51 AM, January 25, 2006  
Blogger AmeroKafka said...

Blown away?

Burton, I have a hug and a half rack standing by.

Only wussies compliment poetry.

Real men drink about it.

5:20 PM, January 26, 2006  

Post a Comment

<< Home



Twitter Updates

My Other Sites

Site Information

Friend Blogs

Awesome Links

Favorite Webcomics

Previous Posts


Powered by Blogger