the hours

certain tasks get done
only with constant

repetition: the same
movement spread out

or applied over
different parts.

the tedium produced
is not convenient

to anything except
perhaps some kinds

of thinking. as the arm
swings back and forth

plying the long handle
of a roller brush, the mind

detaches from its usual
counters. all the little

birds that used to flit
distractedly from limb

to limb in the tree have become
one bronze timbre, somewhere

in the background: here and
everywhere at the same time.


In response to Via Negativa: Convenience.

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