Everything Now

This is a relatively recent poem about how we live in a culture that expects… well, everything now. This is particularly apparent when I’m working on freelance projects, because a lot of people forget that freelancers work with multiple clients and expect you to drop everything to work on their project. It’s definitely a balancing act.

 

Everything now

and not tomorrow

my friend

you forget

there’s a general

election.

I don’t know how

we keep living longer

when the days become short

and unmanageable,

and thanks largely

to the global economy

there’s always someone

somewhere

who needs you

to do something.

There’s even a guy

from Ethiopia

who said

he wants to give me

his inheritance;

it isn’t legit,

but I still want

to click it.

Meanwhile

my liver is shot

and I wonder if

I’ll ever heal it,

so I’ll smoke

another cigarette

while the world spins on

without me.

Or maybe it’s standing still

and my head is spinning.

Yesterday

I learned

that the earth

is closer to the sun

than it is to Masr,

at least

on average.

That’s the kind of thing

that blows my mind,

and I didn’t even have

a hangover.

It made me realise

we’re insignificant,

little blips in existence

like grains of sand

on a football field.

Then I went to an open mic

and forgot all about it.

There’s a moral there,

but I don’t quite know

what it is.