Burn. Burn. In the firelight of dawn when the sun sets aflame
those of us who awake to the clamor of day
unfinished tasks still holding up a traffic jam of events
on a scale unprecedented. Mind-blowing.

Work. Work. To break the list down into manageable machinations
Hoping that one by one the tasks will take flight
The page will be blessed with red  bloodied execution
and the virgin taken, will settle into substantial maturity.

Try. Try. New tasks germinate and populate the columns
and there is never enough time to juggle between starting
and finishing all those noble intentions. They crowd me out
pushing for space in an already jammed tight list of things to do.

I try to get on top of it but it wont surrender to my flirting,
and pampering and pushing, dressing and undressing
and will not yield to my best one-liners.
Tasks come with a stern face and stare back at you 
if you dare do something else instead.

The battle of boldness continues day in and day out
and I move on into sunnier climes where the beach 
beckons more than another day at the desk
plodding through plots and summaries and shaping characters
line after line.

Sometimes I wonder what internal turbo charged engine
drives me to keep going-without looking back
at all those unfinished, abandoned tasks that never
helped in taking me forward.

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago