I survey my battle field,
books strewn,
clothes like rags,
paper on the floor.
camera cds files guitar
post its joyometer
the cold air control.

a product of the weeks
Melee of tutorials,
the foul report another foe,
I fight for wakefulness
and finally finish.
striking off all of those things:
the things i've had to do.

my head finds a place to lie,
rest i recover and recharge,
but just as all that mess disappears,
another week has just begun.