Do you sing praise
for eight and more hours of sleep uninterrupted by any kind of pain,
or do you lament that it began at dawn and lasted into the afternoon?

Do you exult that upon awakening you are ready to go straight back to the blank
page, or damn yourself for the failings of the days just past?

Do you curse the unenthusiastic monsoon, or rejoice in the mad wind?

Do you choose to see yourself as one of the Unemployed losers, or know in your heart that no job has ever defined you and the lack of one won’t either?

You love the thunder
and the silence after.