Bound

The stapler couldn’t make it.
The sheets were too many
(each one a measure of my day)
and it said,
“Not today.”

 

I envy it.
It was built
to be beaten on the head,
and bind sheets
and today it decided,
“No.”

 

I have no such luxury.
I am flesh and blood
and meant to be brighter
than a stapler.

 

Yet I will go on today,
beaten on the head
and bind together my day
without the option
of, “no.”