Type
Poetry

I can't make a living

out of watching butterflies
drinking turtles’ tears
on the internet.
My family won’t benefit
financially from the
quickening pulse
and close-held breath
that make sunlight slow
and smooth on orange wings
glowing and flickering around
wise and patient reptilian eyes.
No skills are gained or
improved upon by spending
moments so idly.
No tangible ROI comes
from resisting the urge
to reach through the screen
and touch the tiny strobing vortex
of light and pigment landing
a million quick kisses
on such a stoic recipient.
There is no profit in this,
no place for it on any resume,
no KSC or KPI addressed.
Watching butterflies drinking
turtles’ tears on the internet is
wholly unsustainable, a complete
misappropriation, a truly and
gloriously shameless waste of my time.

 

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Adam Ford is the author of Man Bites Dog, The Third Fruit is a Bird, Not Quite the Man for the Job and Heroes and Civilians. He has written for Australian Author, Desktop, Going Down Swinging and Cordite. He blogs at theotheradamford.

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