All Day

in ,

All day I worked in a basement

All day I stretched my yellow tape

All day I laided down lines, blue, red and straight.

(All at 90… though some, needed a tweek)

 

All day I looked at walls to be, a bedroom, a kitchen, a home

All day I wrote short hand with my pen, DW CP FR

And All day I looked out the window … sometimes.

 

At lunch I sat in a chair, in the sun

And I had my phone all day

But I stopped, I put it down, so I could stop

because

 

All day I half listened to myself

And all day I listened to the radio

CBC

 all day

the morning in english, the afternoon in French,

(it’s just better that way).

 

After my all day I went to the store

And talked about doors and ratings and code

But not about clouds.

Who was looking at the clouds?

 

So,

 after all day in the basement with lines

And after all day at the store with doors

I looked at clouds, at their colour and shape,

The way they moved with the sun

 on their bottoms.

 

It seemed like my neck was pleased now

 looking up

instead of down

All day