Work is worship, or so they said. . .

Six thirty in the a.m.
And you still have not
Gone to bed.

It is three days
Since you have
Combed your hair.

It is a week
Since you had a bath.

And six weeks
Since your dog had hers.

It is three months
Since you popped
The baby pink multi-vitamins.

It is half a year
Since you met your only best friend.

Woe to your scraggyscornfullistless world
Where the moonlit sky exists only in the grand
Lullabies that one of your grandmothers sang.

(First published in Sweet Magazine, South Africa)

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