A Late Night Spent with the Teetering TBR Pile

 

I want to be about getting things done.

From my perch in the poet’s corner,

I look out ten windows,

pondering how to be smarter faster better,

which may or may not make for better poetry

or give me anything to write about

beyond frustration.

 

Tell me again how a crush should feel?

 

Life is fair, I’m told.

Hm.

Can’t we talk about something more pleasant?

 

This is what narcissism means to me.

I have theories of everything,

you should know.

 

Here in the blackout,

sitting in the dark here

on this bitch planet,

I search

for a 3 a.m. epiphany.

 

Tell me,

are women human?

 

Rising strong is

what it is.

I have an authentic swing,

and a ball,

at least figuratively speaking;

it’s a sport and a pastime.

 

I seek the flask of the drunken master,

which is said to contain

the ancient secret of the fountain of youth.

 

Tell me,

can a bandersnatch spark joy?

I suspect it can.

 

This post is for NaPoWriMo.  The A to Z blog challenge takes Sundays off.  Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a “book spine” poem that arranges book titles from your bookshelf into a poem of some sort.