In the Middle of a Day

I wonder what it means
that I am uneasy in mid-day
sitting with a book
for pleasure

Retirement meant
that I did not have to fall asleep
with a book in my lap

So now sometimes
I deliberately arrange
not to have a book
when night comes
and I am too pointless
to go to bed

Still I do not know enough
to come competent to dawn
but now it does not matter so much

No one is listening

What do they do
for pleasure
Those who taught literature
by grinding through Thomas Pynchon
or James Joyce

Moby Dick or The Wasteland

when retirement comes

What do they read
in the middle of the day
when it does not matter
if they know more
or less
than those who come first time

From where did it come
that there are things
I ought to be doing
rather than this book

In the middle of a day

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