Habit struck my hand today <br />I felt its sting - I pulled away <br />It said: get up and grab your drawers <br />Shower shave and close the doors <br /> <br />Your daily task looms large ahead <br />(I left my other self in bed) <br />What is this way? How can it be? <br />A shape walks on - some form of me <br /> <br />I am the nineteenth fabricator <br />I build the fifteenth elevator <br />I sport the cables, cut the rod <br />The channel's ready - I give the nod <br /> <br />Another workman pulls a lever <br />This metal box could rise forever <br />encasement taking one and all <br />the fat and slim the short and tall <br /> <br />To cubicles and conference rooms <br />these neatly-girdered plate-glass tombs <br />They write and check and test and measure <br />all we call our worth and treasure <br /> <br />Count and tag and tie and tote <br />til plan's complete - another mote <br />to water-in our magic castle <br />The way is rote, the manner facile <br /> <br />The day is done - I’ve done my time <br />King Lear, Macbeth have played their rhyme <br />The play's complete. The time is when <br />I’ll sleep, get up and go again<br /><br />Tom Courtney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-day-is-done/
