Contemplate for a moment
the pleasures of zero,
in a strange uneasy pause
from your important life.

Belly button fuzz, dust mice,
stale chips in wrapper,
and long lost keys,
in furry fresco
under your couch.

Strange modern art forms,
swept nose wrinkled,
***** to bone
to the wastecan,
unrecorded for posterity.

Across the planet is a woman,
picking over dumpsters,
her favorite flowers
wilted from gravestones
to her table.

Across the ocean
theres an anonymous man,
sleeping under papers and box
snoring a lullaby
for some subway train;

No deadline to mortgage,
rolaids past lunch,
the quality of problems
light years and eons
to yours.

How does it strike you, friend?