repaint the sun.

i'm trying to figure it out.
i feel behind today, wake up late.
no coffee on the burner.
sheets still twisted with blankets.

so it starts slow, already four paces back.
put on the coffee and hear it simmer.
drag off the blankets and lay them smooth.
no other plans make for a shallow perception.

just a wait for the end of the day.
a line that goes until the end of the week.
that's where my patience will find something.
either agony or fruition.

then it will all begin.
a mad scramble to the end of the world.
humans are always waiting.
the immediate is relevant, not necessary.

it's the long range plans that count the most.
stopped short by north korean nuclear testing.
no need for extra toothbrushes or socks.
when the world will soon be buried under fallout.

i haven't seen a day of war.
but i've watched the half-wit kids dive for their lunch.
i haven't seen a life of crime.
but i've flirted with disaster in the smallest degrees.
i haven't died off just yet.
but i can see a man in black coming to take me in.

so cross your fingers and count the rosary.
say a prayer to whoever you plan on heading home to.
close your eyes and breathe a little deeper.
the koreans are about to repaint the sun.