Back in the Saddle

It seems so easy
Laying
Lying
No, laying
Back on this pile of dirty laundry
Wait, is it lying?
Oh, boy
I’m not even really trying to figure it out
I’m just switching
Switching so often that you don’t care
That I’m lying
About this laundry
That I’m on
That I should be doing
But I’m writing
Like I used to write
And it seems so easy
Because it has to be easy
Otherwise I would sink through this floor
Into the ground
Just below the surface
And stay in the cool dirty dark
While my daughter talks
Of the Gingerbread Ender Man
And I know that she’ll surpass me
Even now
“Why aren’t you Vining me?
She asks.
“This is really good.”
And I wonder if whoever reads this
A hundred years from now
Will know what Vine is
And I wonder how mad they are
That I’m not telling them
And it finally dawns on me
That believing someone will read this
A hundred years from now
Is some great narcissism
Speaking of
My daughter has asked me to stop writing
She wants me to see how many Likes she has
And I don’t wonder
Where she gets it from
I only wonder
How many likes she has
And she smiles
And laughs
For cameras that aren’t here
For the future people
With the pony tails
Who she says spy on us
From the trees
And this laundry will never get done
Because neither of us care
And her mom needs us
To lift it up
But doing laundry is hard
And this
It seems so easy