Wake up late. Make coffee.
Pore through journal articles, and check your email.
Above all, busywork!

Busywork, to salve one’s conscience.
Busywork, to pretend you’re not in a ruinous infatuation with disgrace,
open to being ambushed on a Tuesday afternoon
by the same silence that offered conclusive proof of your worthlessness
the last time. And the time before. And before that. And befo…

Busywork, to pretend every vicious reversal does not sting,
To pretend that your inner cynic does not recognize the logic.

Busywork, to feign structure,
To conjure signposts out of mist.
Busywork, so you can order self-worth off of Amazon. £7.85 at a time.
Or £9.24 for one-day delivery, cheers !

Busywork. Keep busy, and survive.
Busywork, because giving up is an extravagance.
Shut up.
No one’s bones have a right not to ache.