If I reach that time
when everything is done,
the house is painted,
friendships repaired,
the goals of last year completed,
and I walk to the door and say,
everything is copacetic.
Nothing needs to be addressed today.
I’ve cut the grass,
washed the windows,
said I love you,
to everyone I really love,
and I’m a man unemployed.
Achieved what I’ve been working for
to this moment.
Life is good.
And, as I smile,
hold my coffee,
say good morning to a good morning,
my hands tremble,
my spirits sag,
I feel a despair that has no meaning,
and discover a truth.
I do not want to arrive
where I’m going!
I do not want to say,
this is my last poem,
everything is perfect,
I have no engagements today.
I can take a walk
and never return,
because all my work is done,
all the hoping is over,
the tiredness of labor,
I am unemployed!
And now I know,
watch out for what you pray for.
Wealth that has no meaning,
a garden that can live without you,
friends who don’t miss you
because you’re a known quantity,
and becoming yourself is over.
A blank destiny,
time at a standstill,
and your heart,
which should be breaking
is in perfect condition.