A Woman in a Cafe

I cannot, as they say, get going today. Lethargy besets me. My flat is crying out to be cleaned, but I just sit there ignoring it. Two days ago I joined the twittering masses at tweeter, as the more observant of you will have observed, hoping to tweet my heart out in small, poignant poems. But today I find myself to be a twitless tweeter. The clock ticks on relentlessly, not having anything better to do with its time, and I have nothing better to do than to listen to its ticking. There is a pile of paper waiting to be corrected and I let it wait, without comment. I am even too lazy to lie down, such is my disgrace.

I just wanted to share this with you all – I thought it might help those of you suffering from this nefarious disease of procrastination to know that there are others out there, suffering…

I also wanted to point you to a new reading I recorded, as I practice whipping my voice into some kind of acceptable shape. It’s based on Hopper’s painting “Automat”: