Lazy by David Yezzi

December 12, 2011
By ,
I don't say things I don't want to say or chew the fat with fat cats just because.

With favor-givers who want favors back, i tend to pass on going for the ask.

I send,instead, a series of regrets, the lank repose, the psychic field of rye

swayed in wavy air, is my respite among the shivaree of clanging egos

on the packed commuter train again tonight. Sapping and demeaning--it takes a lot.

to get from bed to work and back to bed. I barely go an hour before I'm caught

wincing at the way that women laughs or keeps clucking at his magazine.

And my annoyance fills me with annoyance. It's laziness that lets them seem unreal

--a radio with in-and-out reception blaring like hell when it finally hits a station.

The song that's on is not the one I'd hoped for, so I wait distractedly for what comes next.

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