“The time will come when winter will ask you what you were doing all summer.”
~ Henry Clay
Yes, it’s true. I do not like summer.
It feels like the whole world is sleepwalking. Clocks forget to tick. Everybody is out of town, and it’s definitely not business as usual.
I like business as usual.
Especially in my pajamas.
Here’s the thing. I’m all for relaxing, de-stressing, and having a jolly good time. But something about summer spells L-A-Z-Y. And with lazy comes GUILT.
Shouldn’t I clean out the pantry?
Call the piano tuner?
Invite friends to dinner?
Revise my WIP?
Marinate the chicken?
Catch up on personal correspondence?
Decide what to wear in case Bob Dylan stops by?
I’m way too lazy.
And, God help me, I’m starting to really like it.
by Elizabeth Alexander
I am lazy, the laziest
girl in the world. I sleep during
the day when I want to, ’til
my face is creased and swollen,
’til my lips are dry and hot. I
eat as I please: cookies and milk
after lunch, butter and sour cream
on my baked potato, foods that
slothful people eat, that turn
yellow and opaque beneath the skin.
Sometimes come dinnertime Sunday
I am still in my nightgown, the one
with the lace trim listing because
I have not mended it. Many days
I do not exercise, only
consider it, then rub my curdy
belly and lie down. Even
my poems are lazy.
(Rest is here.)
Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup is at Biblio File.