the sisyphus blues

wakes. bed-edge cigarette. smiles at the sun. takes a tour of the restroom. makes notes for the day. turns on muddy's plantation recordings. sighs out awe. cup of tea. green tea fever morning. pulls out files for a call in a few hours. goes over notes from previous call. staying up to date is half of business. fidgets with new software. signals the all-good to the programmers. opens email world. taps out a few answers to dumb questions. hammers out a few new promotional ideas. looks for more efficient ways to do things. returns a few calls. very little to say. switches to butterfield blues band. smiles at circular breathing. takes down notes from email. returns calls. deletes spam (including the 'love baby jesus' emails that bounce around). works on outlining a few new structural ideas. enter flying burrito brothers. gram parsons, nad-rocker. cigarette desk watches me return a few text messages. more tea. calls from new mexico. calls from jersey. calls from florida. calls from northern california. laughs at jokes. puts phone down. clicks out a few pages in levon's autobiography. back to the fold. tracks down a few lost orders. talks to fulfillment house. finds software glitch. lets IT know. scribbles out a few new poems. bangs away at novel. electric flag plays. awed again by bloomfield. rests eyes. cup of tea. cable tv. nothing on. back to books. returns emails. answers phone. gives a friend a ride. bundles up for the cold. watches sun fall away. loses breath for a moment. lets v-day '72 dark star rock the car. listens to friend babble out his day. turns right. turns right. turns right. turns left. pulls into driveway. makes a few hyperbolic statements. fades into bedroom. lays back on bed. settles in. sighs. smiles. falls asleep.

and again.

2008-02-22 | 10:16 a.m.
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