Tote that barge. Lift That Bale…
Boredom: The desire for desires.
Life can last too long.
Boredom becomes hypnotic,
a tedium of torpor,
draining and terrifying.
And both simultaneously.
We live to live but in time
so much becomes merely
maintenance, thoughtless
repetitive actions repeated.
To strike against ennui
requires more effort than
all your remaining energy.
Neurons quietly calcify.
Impermanence exhausts.
Sleeping rust is faking.
The boulder rolls ever
back down the damned hill.
More futile repetition.
Grimace and heave.
Ashes, ashes, until
we all fall down into
isolated dying piles.
Not the wind that blows,
but blown by the wind,
longing for the unlived life
long since forgotten.
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Help keep me on my meds… The voles are nibbling my toes.
