In an Age of Waste

Just give me ink and blank space—
Sun on the rug, green past glass.

So what, I’ve got no good tools—
Time to waste’s no time to waste.

I’ll set my watch. Let it count.
In an hour, I should be there.

Make your lunch. Set out the plates.
I don’t want to eat. I will.

I’ll drive to your feast. I’ll sit
And I’ll talk, and while we chat

I’ll think what harm could be done
One more hour at home in sun.