Here I sit in numbed indolence

Here I sit in numbed indolence

A book page from Keats,

A nodding head away from sleep.

As a beery sun froths

Out of an effervescent love

Of incandescence.

Such enthusiasm for wonder

Is as tiresome as the guilt

Of a protestant work ethic

Pushing back.

Hermaphroditic Daisies have a hard time

Gaining recognition

For their tendency to grow

In profusion.

Scattered across a green field

An inner galaxy of starlight

Sparkling in the afternoon,

They look pretty

Even in a sad place.

Show me a happy face

It is as easy as a shadow

Passing through a memory,

Changing the passage of time.

There is no joy in it,

The darkness of windows,

The overlook of empty rooms

Nothing is moving

But the breeze.

Unseen forces

Pulling at the edges.

Heads can be as heavy as lead

Shoulders can droop as low,

Indolence can come and go

Whether you want it to or not.

Ask the Gecko

On the deck.

It sits for hours,

I wonder if it knows I am watching.

It stands, rock still

Until the sun drops

When asked, it has been known to say

That it sees life

From its own perspective

And doesn’t recognise itself as lazy.

Pass the wine.

Let it sparkle as its molecules

Scatter out into the void

Breaking through the surface tension

Make a daisy chain

Of reminders

Drink with gusto, lest it be still.

Bring about a change,

Fill the day with movement.

Better yet, than drifting down

Into a deep bleak trough

Of indolent disrepair.