Ten Minute Poem

First day of a month, I have to plan, and I have

to organize and I have to know what I want, set

goals, that’s what we all, we adults, do.

And so, by 9AM I’ll have this done,

and by 11AM that one.  Stray from the known

runs, just do something, it’s the first day, when you get a new year or

new period in this new year.

And February, the second month, so if you didn’t do it in 31

try doing it in 28.  Or

is it 29, this year?  I leap to the calendar and see if…

no.  No leaping.  Same thing.  So I schedule what I can in these little blocks,

look I’m so grown up, and then I

highlight what’s really important, what really matters and is dire,

so now I have a schedule within the normal schedule.

‘Run– 12:30’.  But I might go

get a coffee at that hour, that half,

so it’s not as official as I thought, I’m just mocking myself now by

even trying this, why did I buy this calendar or schedule or

planner whateveritscalled back

in December?  Then I didn’t care, because the year was nearly

close and now I have a whole new set of squares to be concerned with–

a bother, maybe, but I have 27 more in this new month, new

year, when clear my mind, never, not with all this, and I still haven’t planned the




by noon I want to get a run in on the park path and then by

2 I need to get groceries and fill the car with gas and clean the closet and

do something else I’m forgetting, should

have written it down, used this thing, but I get

a restart, do over, slate blank, bare plate–

Look at this square, see 1; bold and large and confident,

intimidating, I’m being too candid, maybe, the swirling of days gets

to me, so maybe I should open this plannerthing, start at

the first, today, see what

I get done.  So let me see what I’ve

won, not exactly a ton, afraid to be too bum,

even though I praise their simplicity, by puddles on Market,

my scuffles aren’t parted the day’s hour intrusive,

walk polluted in mood, no option other but wined rudder.

One minute left on the first day, one

so what to fix, all of it–  I’m out of words and math, anything

scholarly, I just look at my calendar and don’t

know it, I’m unfamiliar to it and it to me, fees

collected and I’m broke, broken, brake fate again.