Keep At The Task

I've been working on some revisions lately of poems that previously appeared in this blog. This one is probably the least changed, but I still think it's a notable improvement. It used to be the unmade bed or unhung clothes signified Something, perhaps that I didn't much care How things looked or how they were, But now it's more that I do not have the strength To keep at the task, to keep it up, To clean it out or clear it away. In my youth, good fellows like Bill or George might Volunteer to rehang a door or mend a fence for a friend, Or dig a needed ditch, or cook a deer or pig for the feast, But that was seldom me. I just smoked and watched— Because I was no-account, I suppose, Not because I was so watchful. I think I liked it better when I was just lazy or shiftless Than now when I’m willing but Can’t raise my arms high or bend my knees low Or keep my feet moving fast and long enough To defend myself or you against these greater Outer-world diseases and despotic politicians. rcs. Original: o4/23/2009 Current draft created on 12/25/2009 3:37 PM