2/365

there’s something about laziness
that doesn’t get enough credit.

always overshadowed
-by the eager hankering of ambition-
you forget the luxury of languid language
on your tongue:

indolent idle inertia
sluggish, lifeless, languor.

awake at noon
pancakes for lunch
still in pyjamas.

tell the machine
There’ll be time for more later.

right now
is for books, TV, books about TV,
sticky poems
and the warm glow of lights
and the torpidity
of another grey wet day.