didn’t wake up
as much as dashed
from bed this morning
mind already racing
fixated
laser focus

coffee made
clothes laid out night before
prepared

fully dressed
coffeed
foot bouncing
staring at clock
thinking
thinking
thinking

is this
what the song meant
just another
manic monday

must i walk
like an ancient egyptian
back stooped
from days spent
building pyramids
staring in awe
at the product of incest
on the throne
that may live
to a ripe old age
of thirteen

these are not
the mornings for me

falling down
whatever new rabbithole
my mind
creates

plus
i don’t wear sandals
especially not
to push three ton
stones
up a sharp incline