9/82
A great Sleepishness
Is Creeping through my legs and lungs.
My mind is yawning
Searching for gold on the bottom of a stream
Only to be gathered up and sold
For outrageous profit further up the line
I no longer want this job
And yet I can't drop out from my apprenticeship
But for me it's dishonest to find the gold
And then go through the motions of sifting
Merely to prove that it's not an easy job.
Because b then the gold hs lost it's worth for you
And you're already searching for the next.
I have a fear of being outspoken, of saying
"Here! I've found it and I'm going.
I'm not hanging around
The next piece is a time away,
And no amount of effort
In the same spot is going to bring it nearer."
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