I do two loads of laundry / call it work

& feel fulfilled so I make lunch then worry

about how I’ll manage to do anything lasting.

I spend a few minutes daydreaming about

how I’ll look in my new author photos

what face I will have		or what outfit	

I yawn a lot more now / 37 years old / because of this

partial continuous attention which gets me nowhere.

I can say that I am fully aware of everything

that is happening around me but can’t feel

connected to any of it	       trading a hard long look

for a glance that takes it all in but without depth.

I make coffee & think I’ll teach myself 

how to draw              something I’ve been

proposing for 16 years. I buy new pencils

& a pad that looks professional	like

it should be taken seriously & I watch myself

in the mirror while buttoning my shirt.