inlets and exhaust
Today, my first day of the work,
For which I prepared since past three months.
I feel tired,
exhausted
But today is supposed to be
the first day, right?
Also it is my birthday. Nobody knows
About it & my colleagues
are exhausted too. From yesterday’s
party
I am too
From the cumulative yesterdays.
Do I make sense ? Do I write and my words
hit you ? I don’t think so.
I don’t have a literature degree.
To praise the cuckoo birds, and
fight for the rights of my neighbor’s \
last piece of apple pie
Today is my work day. There is a computer
In front of me - about to light/fire up
I have been instructed not to
Touch something I don’t know
So
I write a poem about you;
You are waiting for me - and
I am stuck in the traffic jam and
Inside my head
& -
BTW, how is your day going?