Procrastination - July 21 2023

 

Procrastination

July 21 2023

No shilly-shally, dilly-dally

lolligag.

No dawdling, lingering

goofing off.

And by all means

do not defer, postpone, prolong.

But still, I procrastinate.

Wait

for the fullness of time,

afraid

I'll fall short of perfection.

So dishes pile up

beds remain rumpled

taxes aren't done.

No thank you notes

clean clothes

unexpired milk.

And half-finished poems

willy-nilly

scattered about.

Is it laziness, or indecision?

Perhaps

I'm too distracted

or wary of critics.

All those brilliant words

that might have been written;

but even worse

the beginning of words

left in the mid . . .

I'm actually the opposite! Almost obsessive about getting started, completing lists, tying up all the loose ends. I suffered from procrastination when I was young, and realized I was allowing perfectionism to paralyze me. Now, I just dive in and get started.

So this poem didn't start as autobiography. It simply began with the fun word-play of the opening lines: noodling around, and seeing where it took me. The ending, too, is the result of the sound of words: once I'd written “unfinished”, the rhymes led me to the only logical conclusion!

One final note: does anyone actually send thank you notes anymore?