I barely got up the mountain;
the air was thin—had me doubtin’
that there I’d stand on the mountain.
Where the sea I could see.
The sea from there I’d see
far off in front of me.

Also up there on the mountain:
a man who seemed to be doubtin’
that the boulder he’d been mountin’
in place for long would be.
He watched it quizzically,
then went to have a pee.

The boulder rolled down the mountain,
and Sisyphus is accountin’
for now he must be remountin’
that mound eternally.
He’ll bound down, and then he
must push it…so heavy.

So, once again, up the mountain,
the rock he rolls as he’s mountin’.
No use the days to be countin’,
’cause it’s eternity.