List of Power Stations

I wake at 5.30 in Watt, California and take a 20 minute shower immediately:
twelve minutes for the shower, eight minutes for 'other activity'.
I hate to sweat in my fresh shirt before I've left home.
I've lied to myself that I can hold on,
complete dressing, wet and comb my hair,
lean over to tie my shoes with extreme difficulty.

Most of my colleagues understand my build-up routine:
Rumination, notation, ejaculation, meditation.
I speak late in the morning, at the lectern, clearly, full of hope.
I have to sit down after a few minutes and they provide me with a chair;
I cross my legs and stare straight forward.

After lunch I take one-on-ones with the student body.
These are done in fifteen minute spurts, leaving the door
open for reassurance that I will be doing nothing rhythmic
save for sharpening my pencil.
It's better in meetings with faculty, who silently
allow me to tick-tock in my underwear.
By the time I'm home I am exhausted, sticky all over.

I wash while my wife sets the table for dinner
to warm her to my presence we sit side by side
shoulders and knees softly rubbing, then straight to bed.
I cup her face, look only at her eyes, nod
and smile, while I quietly pray that I'll fall straight to sleep around her
so she knows how I feel when I'm only warm and not hot.