“Lethargy set me down a blue infant

in an inch of tub water. ‘It's hard to’ 

mostly meant ‘I don't want to’, and how could 

strength, having never been one of my strengths

(my wiggly arms only good for bathing 

fruit and sorting baseball cards), serve me well

in the fraternity of the impaired?”

“Springtime rears and I start to miss my friends; 

put out feelers. Not hard to find, I suss 

my reflection in the windows of a 

passing bus; I look all weird.” To what end,

these underpaid pursuits? We all work hard 

all week to spend our weekends lost in thought,

left the hell alone not loved and bothered.