the jet screams from up above
jackhammers
car horns
the train
this busy world never seems to rest.
the wasps have built another nest.
a spider web is netted across the last one they built
I'm letting the spider in my room live so he can eat the flies

the stray cats
the caged dogs

deep breaths.
everyone, every Thing is in such a fucking rush.
I wonder if any of those wasps ever get lazy
if one's having to do all the work.
and I wonder if he complains.

lots to do today.
never enough time to get it all done.

that girl.
this girl.
those girls.

art.
songs.
poems.

I need a drink.