work week

Have you had a week

where you stopped knowing

what you were doing? The drive a peaceful

emptiness of a record spinning

at the end of the threads of sound,

the work so head-bent intense you forget

to brush your hair before going,

you couldn’t tell a friend:

it was like my hours were a puzzle spread before

me on the table: autumn colors in soft

cardboard pieces, neat piles of yellow, orange,

and hazel, all the edge pieces brushed

with a fingertip to one spot,

that my day was made up of sluicing

from one thing to the next as though

my head were under three different taps of water.

She would only look at me quizzically. This

was a day when it dawned

on me that the best approach to all this

would be to define, number, and time

every single thought alongside the parameters

and content of each task,

at least as often as I thought or did them,

and to analyze this data

at the end of each day and once a week.  How

does one do that?  How does one

calendar thoughts? what of the brilliant icicle

thought, so warmed

over time that it suddenly crashes

to the ground in a tinkling thud

of sound, whiteness, and light

bouncing from the shards?

How do you chart this thought

to treasure?

 

 

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