322 and 323

I’d give nigh any, any, anything

to never have to focus in again.

To let my mind do any, anything

but keep attuned to here, and here attend.

I’ll focus upon any, anything

but that which is the product of the now.

I’ll ponder upon any, anything

but what’s right here, right in front of my brow.

So give me any, any, anything

you want from me that doesn’t want my mind.

I’ll do for you most any, anything,

if you’ll be, to my mindlessness, so kind.

I’ll be right here, and many miles away,

and, if you want, I’d love for you to stay.

~~~

I want to be more serious, I say,

more level-headed, and less louse-like, too.

But every dreary, dismal, drizzly day

but ends with work I still refused to do.

But, I suppose, I do still feed the cat;

and make sure that it’s warm for him inside,

and leave the tub’s tap dripping just so that

he’ll drink a little where he can’t be spied.

I make sure that he needn’t do a thing,

while I’m appalled at my own lazy state.

Does he, too, feel the guilt to which I cling?

Does he, too, see himself a reprobate?

No chance. He sleeps upon the welcome mat;

and hasn’t caught a single mouse at that.