Monday, April 12, 2010

A small discourse on the word "work."

It has instructive contrasts with play.

It reasserts itself come Monday.

It is good to have. But that doesn't mean that it always feels good. To have.

It reminds one that previously, there were restaurants and socializing and bookfairs and out-of-town. And Sunday.

It is synonymous with "employment."

It may be a kind of alienation. Or it may be a kind of fulfillment, or at least some people think so.

Fine. One is grateful for it. Fine. Grateful.


Luckily, there is poetry to save us.


  1. And fine poetry at that. So fine. Fine.

  2. "And Sunday". Love that line; mostly because I cannot recall the last time I had a Sunday.



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