4/9/11

Our Saturdays are for the things we don’t get done all week.

We promise all procrastination will be put aside.

But so many distractions turn our streamlined aims oblique,

We must plan next week following to mitigate our pride.

And if next Sunday we should find that nothing’s been achieved,

We'll blame our inconveniences, and obligations met,

Pronouncing, manifestos, of our productivity,

Till all ambition turns to grief and, piecemeal, we forget.