I'd Rather

I'd rather write poems Than clean up my house, The dust in the corners Is two inches thick. The counters are cluttered The bed is a mess, The bats in the belfry Won't leave me alone. They flit and they flutter, Make all kinds of noise, The words they throw out Just don't seem to rhyme. Where is my notepad, Where is my pen, This thought is so fleeting It won't last for long. I'm going to journey A map work of words, Hung in my mind like a vast universe.