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deviDetermined to catch up, I pump out crap.
How things conspire to keep me from my nap.
I have but half an hour to close the gap.
The story is a hank of matted thread.
The ugly beasts who through a library sped,
The social worker who may soon be dead,
A boy who doesn’t see the point of life,
The cartoon sheep who watch a deadly strife,
The laundryman disgruntled with his wife,
A girl who simply can’t make up her mind,
A crow, some future Londoners who find
Incendiary words, some boxes signed
With letters, warnings, cradling lost dreams.
A smiley cultist’s money-spinning schemes.
I think I’ve lost my grip on central themes.
And now the half-hour’s up. Unwise, I know,
For poetry, compared to prose, is slow.
And still almost five thousand words to go.
How things conspire to keep me from my nap.
I have but half an hour to close the gap.
The story is a hank of matted thread.
The ugly beasts who through a library sped,
The social worker who may soon be dead,
A boy who doesn’t see the point of life,
The cartoon sheep who watch a deadly strife,
The laundryman disgruntled with his wife,
A girl who simply can’t make up her mind,
A crow, some future Londoners who find
Incendiary words, some boxes signed
With letters, warnings, cradling lost dreams.
A smiley cultist’s money-spinning schemes.
I think I’ve lost my grip on central themes.
And now the half-hour’s up. Unwise, I know,
For poetry, compared to prose, is slow.
And still almost five thousand words to go.
