Lying around reading The New Yorker
On hot afternoons is a luxury;
You read about ugly architecture,
I read about ancient philosophy.
Apparently Lucretius Carus thought
The world was made of tiny atomi,
And seven hundred fifty dollars bought
Some shoes in New York City recently.
I myself own a lot of blueberries
In quart-size mason jars in the freezer
Also goat cheese, and cherry tomatoes
In the garden to pick at my leisure.
Luxury is in the nature of things;
No shoes, no shirt: millions of blueberries.