Work

I don’t work…work is hard…I did hard work
for thirty years…now I sit on my couch…
look out the windows….just look….it’s not work…
.neither is writing or I’m sure I
wouldn’t do it…”let be be reality of seem.”
Wallace Stevens…is seems to be now,
more than it ever has been before…. it’s hard to
convey experience in words…movies
are better….but no one else can know what you’re
seeing and feeling right now….which
is itself a movie…an illusion….a representation of
relative facts that have no substance…
are transitory….seem to make sense only in terms
of each other…in terms of the relationships…..

I try to play as much as I can….be silly….tell jokes….
I can’t see any greater purpose in life than to laugh….
it’s where the stars are born in your mind’s universe…
it defies entropy…it proves eternity and that we are in it…
it makes you live longer….it’s saved many lives….

If you love what you do, I don't consider that work.
Work has saved no one’s life….it’s merely prolonged
the lack of it, or, the search for it.