When my eyes open there is too much light
Even this early in the morning.
As I dress, I dread.
My labor feels inconsequential.
The only dream left: to achieve something beyond
subsistence. Repetitive motions take their toll.
I feel bad about feeling bad.
This is how capitalism feels.
Every task is flattened to the same degree
of overwhelming difficulty.
There is no distinction for me anymore
between being rested or not1, there is just
too much light: in the morning; in the grocery aisles;
in the classroom. Florescent onslaught.
All outward signs suggest I should be happy2.
1 These two sentences paraphrased from Depression: A Public Feeling by Ann Cvetkovich
There was too much light
after the surgery
I was open and rare
then suddenly chastened
light in my eyes
time to wake up
then lie there alone
but not time yet