I’m dreaming of doing more, doing my chores,
documents brought home, & hoping for statue-
calm to check them in front of the TV (to keep
the Little Alien occupied) while I mark suspect
terms - delighted by my aspirations, I’d expect
inspiration to overtake me - passively waiting
for the overpowering urge to get busy
Convinced it’ll arrive from outside like a missile
making me check quietly, ruler in hand, line for
line, excluding the world - which I usually invite
offering those with problems the benefit of my
advice; when will the ability to sit immobile like
the Buddha manifest to override my restless
psyche, when will the ability to concentrate
Without reading magical stories or watching
beautiful movies, bring me respite from the
impatience which makes everything seem
pointless - unless the words on the chem
in our heads bring us to a quiet, prayerful
place, we can never enjoy the statuesque
peace that we seek
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