Seventy-Five Days

It's two-thirty-six
(afternoon)
in this *something* place.

After lunch/dinner (linner?),
coffee, toast,
getting ready's coming fast..

Stuff to do -
dishes, laundry, sweep, vacuum...

Thinking about it...

(The maybe doing it now)
(The what would be first?)
(The maybe when I get home)

...takes a good thirty or so.

Check the email, just for a bit,
something about Jacko,
click the link, and Google it.

Then it's five past getting ready.

No need to hurry, not just yet
Shower takes ten, not fifteen,
and the carpet needs nailing down,
it'll only take a minute;
bugger of a thing, it keeps on shifting.

Hayzoos! Christo! Got. To. Go!
Sniff test says "shower not needed,"
just Old Spice.

Run, bus, train.

Slow people in the way.
(I'm trying to get down the stairs)
Elevator door, second floor,
bell rings, s'okay.

I got there five minutes ago.
Five lessons to go.

I'm not a teacher, but I'll say I am -
It sounds better.

Final bell, punch out,
really dark, night.

Time to walk,
home, five K one way.

Home-at-eleven.

Upstairs, open door, shoes off, light,
think about cleaning the place.

(Maybe in the morning)

Phone rings, talk,
just for a bit.

"Can you wake me up in the morning?"

Warm blankets, cold pillow,
reach over, click.

A clock rings twelve.

(Smile)

Seventy-four to go.