There is grace in being lazy
And I have mastered it.
There is an art of the lethargy
And I found it.
How you hear but never listen
How you talk but speak only hallow words
How you walk a walk with
Fair freeness that bears no weight of
Responsibility
How you sleep the sleep of the dead
That remarks for no end
How you eat the food of the gods
And the gluttons envy your endurance
How you party with no end hear the music in your head
Till Dionysus confer you as right hand
How your parents do the work
And being scolded is of second nature
How you don't care
How you don't want to care
How you for once feel the weight of your organs
Falling in, caving in until you are one
While lying down
How the bed is your favorite part of the house
And the kitchen is your throne
And the fridge is your wife
And the phone is your guard
And how this IS your fool keeping you entertained
There is grace in being lazy
And I have mastered it.
There is art in the lethargy
And I have found it.
Seeing past the walls
Learning that there is more
Being a ruler of your own kind
Being free in your own making
This is the art.
This is the craft.
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoesíaPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
