Holidays

Your pipettes are still smoking

And your notes on scrap paper

When the holidays arrive.

A feeling of incomplete and guilt descends

While you leave the long concrete corridor.

your mind rushes

to plan and refine elegant experiments

Not to waste time

While your bikini awaits you.

Holiday practice

Jingle jingle in my head

That ‘ you should’ I push away

With mails and documents

That only drain.

Holidays are often theoretical

And the duties hang on my arm.

More practice is needed.