browser icon
You are using an insecure version of your web browser. Please update your browser!
Using an outdated browser makes your computer unsafe. For a safer, faster, more enjoyable user experience, please update your browser today or try a newer browser.

Jam yesterday and jam tomorrow

Posted by on August 22, 2006

Though he loves to work and slave

For me every day

He’d be so much better off

If I went away

But why should I leave him?

Why should I go?

He’d be unhappy

Without me I know

I’ve got that man

Crazy for me

He’s funny that way

The Lad will soon be taking on management responsibilities. Not really grasping technology and the things he can do with it, I have always thought of his job as something mysterious: a mountain climber or an aviator or a tree doctor. It’s odd to think of him doing something I can understand.

In the meanwhile I sit at home searching for work. Like some Ogam tribesman I calculate the time I have left by the position of the sun. While it stays shyly just inside the window, hugging the radiator, I have plenty of time. But as the months go on it gets braver; it slides a little farther into the room every day. Eventually it will cover the carpet. Then my time will be up and it’s back to the administrative salt mines for me.

I write a little every day, and every day I write a little more. My brain is a jar that’s hard to open — I think I’m afraid of using up what’s in there, not realizing this is a magical jam that cannot ever be entirely eaten. This delicious, highly marketable, talented jam of my brain, this genius-flavored brain jam. In time I will spread it on everything and everything will taste like me.

Comments are closed.