It isn’t just giving up one time
It’s choosing to give up every day
That’s what completes the circuit
There is no other way to stop the Death Machine
I remember the first time I chose to give up
I was in the middle of a sentence,
Handing a customer their change,
Which scattered to the floor in a festive jingle,
And I decided to be finished with this bullshit
The next day I almost went to work
Scared to halt the progress we had made
Who else would exchange dollars for candy bars?
Then I thought better and gave up again
Falling instead into a deep sleep til noon
After which I ate half a cake and wrote six sonnets
Before dinner I crafted a third of a novel
And fixed my mind on smashing up a slumlord
Image by Ailene Pasco.
