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O, Mr. Bartleby!
poetry [ ]

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by [cailean ]

2010-01-22  |     | 

One day I'll have to choose.

The people will go by foot
to the same insipid job,
the same hurdy-g'y on the corner,
a bored cook will prepare
the same menu.
The man with glasses
will invite a woman on high heels
- no matter who -
for dinner.
The man will make love with the same woman
or another one. No preferences.

I could not stand against the rain
but I could choose
to open the umbrella or not.
I could choose the second to inhale,
the second to open my eyes,
the very second.

One day he will prefer
not to go to work,
not to love
not to eat

not to open the umbrella at all.

One day I could say:
Today I prefer not to do anything
from all of these.

Then, one day, I could choose
to live or not to.
On that very day
I could say
I would prefer not to.

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