Working the Ordinary
Digging new homes in the garden
for perky tomato plants from a local grocery
for sleepy potato plants in a box from UPS
raking old leaves, trimming away dead branches,
pulling weeds, peeling, chopping veggies
for a stew, doing laps, taking our meds
on schedule. Where’s the song in this?
Are we deaf or merely hard-of-hearing?
What follows from these, or is their doing
their end, their no-end? We’re being practical
and, well, what? So the cosmos will continue
renewing itself? So we won’t grow old
and die, so universal suffering will vanish?
They’re practice, you say,
like prayer, meditation, charity
outers of inners without which
neither is nor we are. We scratch our heads
but sing along less troubled.
The Dog Star 
One Response to “Working the Ordinary”
“We scratch our headsbut sing along less troubled“The po