Gnaw Orleans, population one.
Surrounded by tusked tasks, centered but not, paralyzed.
Icy tears bend old branches--will one break?
Violin music screams out its bow-stressed catgut attack.
By your aches shall ye know you're alive.
By my ass shall alligators gnaw me.
Hey, Thoreau, when the quiet desperation's gone,
Where's my motivation?
"You must sort like with like;
Unlike items may not be grouped. Please
Do not place viable problems among
Long-dead festerments of imagination which
Likely never lived in the first place. Your
Concerns must be separated into irritants,
Road-blocks, and show-stoppers.
If you need help, please use the app on
Your phone--attendants appear only to
Add worries to your concerns."
Henry David, I'm gonna need a hand here.
Give the catgut to the alligator, melt
This ice offa me, distract a few of the tuskers
With your burdensome thoughts while I
Attempt to choose which of these ass-gnawing,
Branch-breaking stressors will be coming
Home with me tonight...