Rabbidity

Things float past my sticky-wheeled swivel chair

above my undisciplined desk

          my bothered will watches wistfully,

                   they pass & fade, untended

                             intended, but lost by default

my fault

          distracted

                   disconsolate

uncalendared, out-of-sync, out of Time

surfing down these rapids, between the tall, slick walls

Mundane Fry Day

On Moonday

I hatch visions like doves

          and throw them soaring to the sky

                   cloudwisp wings on pale wide blue

By Fryday

blue has sunk to rust and gray

          the clouds have clumped like unginned cotton

                   and tumble down to roost around me

lumpy owl-eyed hens accusing,

          constipated with rotting eggs.

Tidings

 a Vilanelle

Time and Tide, who wait for none,     

still bind me fretting to my place;      

in stately meter march until they're done.     

There is one race I've never won:       

I'll never beat, but always chase        

Time and Tide, who wait for none.     

Death and taxes, moon and sun         

allow no alteration of the pace;

in stately meter march until they're done.     

Things I need to do, I shun.      

I dawdle, then I rush, and still must face      

Time and Tide, who wait for none.     

These universal rhythms weigh a ton; 

they never dance with any joy nor grace;    

in stately meter march until they're done.     

Change is a constant, and the only one;      

Though I can find no standing place,

Time and Tide, who wait for none,     

in stately meter march until they're done.