notebook (untitled poem): 2/12/90

How else will I be motivated
Except by emotion, not by desire
To do, I've had enough of doing
I only want to lol around and complain.
Something will happen to smoke out
The old laziness- I can feel by all the work
That someone's trying too hard
And the smoke is rising
But I won't tell- I'll never tell.

It's true- I am not trying to please you
In fact, I'm decrying my own urge to do this-
This is not really the result of fatigue or bad fortune
Though we've all had plenty enough of that-
This comes from routinely sensing what's ahead,
Almost like having a t.v. guide to real life-
One day I understood that anyone could read it if they wanted
It's the denial that makes it possible to forget
And just live- so is the poem part of this denial
Or is it something else?
It's only smoke
Rising on a beam of sunlight
In an endless elevator shaft.
Once you get to the top flooor-
You get out and walk around & shop-
As always, the mannikins transfix me.