To Do:
(and is not due)
A list that never ends-
and always needs re-writing-
redone, recycled,re-envisioned.
Nothing else is capable of spawning;
such hatred guilt waves
of remorse
A stack of useless words
given power to show me
in plain writing
that I have not done
as I wished to do.
I run away
from these
straight, English lines
--my heart does not speak English
English as a Second Language,
logic, emotion, thought as first
sensibility tells me lists
need outrank
other thoughts I think
surpass pains I feel(occasionally)
-for nothing is more real than the list
I see homework
I see projects
I see virtual posts
I see a list with all of these things
Icy rain, tufted snow
deter me from classes
and computers to type up drudgery
Give me a pen
paper'd be preferable
perhaps a book for my mind
-if you don't mind-
those would profit more
-more than homework-
see through my eyes:
we're all not the same.
What works for some drives me insane!
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