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Working morning

Feb 3rd, 2009 by tonisan
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What matters whose she is dreaming with! While I still am the gardener of her plant of hair

It's four o'clock,

coffee is served,
I drink it in just one sip
and then I run to catch the bus,

if I arrive late today I will be fired,
the warnings are already so many
that they do not fit into my personal files anymore,

- one more fault

- I was told –

-one more slide

¡and you will be lift up
to the unemployed’s hell!

It's four o'clock in the morning

and my wife; wrapped
in its cocoon silk

- that baby-doll that had cost me an eye of my face –

sleeps ...
Would she dream with me?
What matters whose she is dreaming with!
While I still am the gardener
of her plant of hair ...

I’d better go
before the cash rolling human cargo

leaves me at foot.

tonisan

Written by tonisan

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Comments

FrugalIdealist, over a year ago
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Wonderful poem.  I wonder how your wife cost you an eye?  I take it that she stays and home and sleeps late while you work?  I am jobless at the moment myself. There is actually a sense of purification and relief that comes with finally letting go of a job that’s exploiting you.  I hope you are looking for something else… something that lets you sleep a little later!

thestickman, over a year ago
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It would be unbearable without coffee… ;-)

nobertbermosa, over a year ago
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the usual morning scenario-people on the rush

MJPatrick, over a year ago
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Yeah, chaos is usual every morning! Nice.