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Behind
Usually, I fall behind
Where I’m supposed to be.
One step back (or more), I am
In perpetuity.
Papers pose in giant piles,
Awaiting my perusal.
All entreaties for removal
Meet with my refusal.
Clothes stack up in massive heaps
In hushed anticipation –
Will the washer or the drawers
Be their next destination?
Catalogues lay scattershot,
Their pages marked and folded.
If I were a child, I would expect
That I’d be scolded.
Luckily, my favorite shows
I summon on-demand.
Watching them the first time ‘round
I never could have planned.
Still, I get to everything;
I’ve got it all controlled,
Although I’m often reading news
That’s two or three weeks old!
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