I always know what I should do
But seldom do I follow through.
I tell myself that if I slept at night
I’d never sit to work, then fail to write—
Truth is I dither in my own despite.
Sometimes I know what I should do
But seldom do I follow through.
I said I’d write a sonnet every week
But so far what a losing streak!
And why? I surf the net and tease the cats
And drain the vein and scratch my ass.
At times I know what I should do,
But all-too-seldom follow through.
I should be writing sparkling verse;
Instead I’m musing on my curse.
Of course you’ll ask what curse is that?
The same that leaves me feeling fat.
The counterspell’s “Get off your ass!”
After I drain this whiskey glass.
Update: You can listen here.
7:36:33 PM 
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