Thursday, March 5, 2009

Something about that name


I immediately dislike this Mark fellow,
who tugs at the locked door
with too much force and authority,
like the government pays him for breathing
and every second of his time wasted
means the world is closer to ending
Awakens my contrary nature
Makes me walk slower,
take my sweet time.

Mark rolls his eyes
when I tell him he’ll have to wait
He says, “I hope you don’t mind if I pace.”
And pace he does,
back and forth
across the creaky wooden floor of my nerves.

Must be something about that name
I’ve never met a Mark I actually liked.

2 comments:

Dorkmaster Flek said...

Hurry hurry hurry faster faster go go go now now now GOOOOOOOOOO!

Alexander James said...

I have to admit, while I'm a strong proponent for the concept of stopping to smell the metaphorical roses, nothing burns my ass more than someone voluntarily wasting my time. Clearly you weren't in a position to expediate whatever it was Mark was there to do, and that is forgivable -- but those people who do things like STAND on the moving sidewalks at Eglinton station or the airport and block my forward motion, or the people who are unprepared with change or a Metropass at the subway or the convenience store and make me waste minutes of my day while they bumble-fuck through their pockets looking for what they need -- these are the people I can't stand. They're killing me in tiny increments of time. I have X amount of time on this planet; the less of it I have to spend waiting for idiots, the happier I become. But then again, I've always been a little bit high-strung, and that might have something to do with it.