each morning i wake, shower, eat
in snatched
bites on the way to
work
lunch
coffeebreaks
the same jokes, they still make me
laugh
but i have heard them all before
then the bar
duncan's jamaica stories, helen's love
life
hairy's tales of woe
and krish will forever
talk about
linux
and i will laugh, and go home,
and
maybe ring my mother
read
sleep
and time becomes a loop, a throwndown rubber
band
slightly wavy and stretchy
and with a hollow feeling
but still
retaining
closure