morning from a basement in brooklyn doesn't mean shit.
it could be dawn or dusk.
luck has it that it is noon.
could have done worse i suppose.
change and pants tumble in the dryer outside my door,
liquid ebbing rythms that lull me back in and out of easy afternoon slumber.
possibility is that i might get something done today.
save for the hypnotic beat of coins on steel,
which might be enough,
to tip the scales in favor
of getting something done
tonight.