So here I am treading the waters of time,
Day currents have fanned and wander so slow,
At my desk I stay until well after nine.

Sunk deep into work, this long shift that is mine,
The hours so heavy that they barely flow,
Clocked in not clocked out until well after nine,

This work-river I find is all but sublime.
If I’m still, inertia will pull me well down below.
So, here I am treading these waters of time.

Years pass and I continue to waste my prime,
Air tainted with heavy fragrance of woe,
Each day I’m imprisoned till well after nine.

This river I’m doomed to drift my lifetime,
My companions, co-workers— exhaustion and sorrow,
Together we tread these slow waters of time.

My voice can be heard as I lament this crime,
Here in this river with no place to go,
Treading these emerged waters of time,
For here I must stay until well after nine.

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Todd Sullivan currently lives in Seoul, South Korea, where he teaches English as a Second Language. He has had more than two dozen short stories, poems, essays, and novelettes published across five countries.

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