lost

there are
(there are)
a thousand things
I’d rather be doing
but there are
(God knows there are there are)
a couple million things I should be doing, and
of course,
they’re too far from different to be said far at all;
but I can’t do any of it, not now, not today
not lately
not in this December(wrong)
on this dry pale weekday(strong)
so I am sitting here typing instead
in the silence
in the shade
under the bleak sun
weeping(not me,
the sun)

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