friday, october 8

friday afternoon, sweet relief:
i may dream about cutting grass tonight,
but in the morning i can do just about
anything else

to elaborate on a thought from the other night:
if all you're working for is living
and you spend most of your living working
then why the hell
would you want to be living?

that's what i was thinking anyway;
i know it's a little narrow,
a little too selfhelpbook.

tags: topics/poem

p1k3 / 2004 / 10 / 8