errands

so much of my life isn't it it's an abstract thing i know but when i think about life when it comes to me i see a giant sapped tree aching with its weight moving towards sunlight moving in any direction it glows spreading wide its root fins all limbs, no brain not much in my life seems anagalous short breathed, lips like raisins shoulders squenched in as if someone has pulled the threads of the muscles to tightly puttering, muttering crossing out lists and writing down more watching the clock make a circle what am i planning for? who am i cleaning for? the crumbs, the stuff around the drain moving around stacks of things as if they were game pieces tomorrow the drain will have bits in it tomorrow there will be dishes in the sink again there will be errands to run but where is the living? where is the blood melt the throbbing or shining when does it pay off?