Il Faut Imaginer Sisyphe Heureux
“One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy” – Albert Camus
The morning hacks up a sun—nicotine-yellow, thick with last night’s smoke—
splattering the sidewalk cracks where ants scavenge broken sugar.
Men walk like questions—no one answers.
I drink my coffee black, bitter as a swallowed thought.
The creek is near. It passes often,
yet never waves.
I light a cigar out of habit, not despair.
Smoke climbs like a prayer too tired to believe,
curling through the kitchen window—
out toward the indifferent sky.
I do not kneel.
I scrub the plates until they shine,
feeling the warm water sting a cut I hadn’t noticed.
A child laughs down the alley.
The wind moves, empty and whole.
I light another cigar.
The day goes on.
