Sisyphus
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Each day I play the role of Sisyphus.
I roll my rock out of bed and leave home.
Sometimes I wish I was alive in this
New world so different from Greece and Rome.
“The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
Albert Camus
Pages upon pages and pages and pages and pages
appear on his desk before he is done
for the night; he stays, and he works, until
the clock strikes eleven. Eyes bleary,
Sissy-fits pushed his rock
around the hallways.
He pushed his rock around his home
Sissy-fits pushed and pushed and pushed his rock.
His rock never felt at home. His rock always needed to be moved.
Since the widespread industrialization
In every town and home
Someone is chained to their life
There’s a bolder on a hill
Every sunset it rolls
Down and down and down
Crushing any goals
And every night and every day
Informed; I pack my deserted island duffle bag
Like Icarus and Sisyphus I set my feet to sand
Action cannot exist as past, and my time is at hand
Whether fall, fail or crumble I have nothing but my will
