"Circadian Common-tary"

Ever notice living
through a day
when nothing happens?
The kind of day that blurs
well before it ends?
Indistinguishable from the day before,
destined to slip into the next,
softly giving up the ghost
making its way into another
inconsequential linear movement?

What makes you realize
that the blur has happened,
if nothing prompts the realization?
Nothing equals falling in love,
nothing equals losing your job,
nothing equals a new revelation,
an old friend, rediscovering a song,
a lunar eclipse, shiny shoes...

Does the sleepy complaisancy drop away
with inner voice complaining of
boredom and bedlam, demanding satiation,
shaking the walls of the cellular world,
mania meeting metaphysics and
realization ripping out the seams
of suburban serenity and courtesy?

Prompted by a moment of recollection
or a sudden waking from a walking sleep,
do you realize you will never remember
this day again, it will fade into
the far reaches of your memory,
easy to lose, easy to forget,
never to be lived again?

Cross it off the list of files
to back up, to record for some
kind of self-righteous posterity.
Let it evaporate like the
condensation on your coffee cup,
wash it down the drain
with the remains of breakfast,
oh exaulted remains of the day
you're forgetting as you live it.

By the time you're done reading this,
you will make a point of remembering,
but then this day wil have been
a day when something happened,
when you woke up before dissolving,
before this day began
incorporating itself into the
fabric of the tomorrow, taking
with it the concerns and scraps of paper,
the lists and chores and laconism,
that comprise this day.

---
Written: 06.15.05
Revised: 10.27.05
MWL