Wheely Good News

You can take your time
Pumping up a low tire
Since there’s no pressure

Priori-Zzzs

So much stuff to do!
But sleep comes first.
The other things will keep.

Multitaxing

Nothing is as interesting
As anything that’s not the thing
That should be your priority
So focus is oh look a dog

How To Eat A Mammoth

Challenges and goals are great
Until they overflow your plate
Like drips and crumbs from greasy snacks
And aspirations stain your slacks.
If your time management is poor
You, too, might choose a metaphor
As unsustainable as this’n.
Do yourself a favor, listen:
Choose one entrée, carve it to
Small forkfuls you can safely chew,
And masticate each carefully
Before you swallow. You’ll agree
It aids the taste, and your dessert’s
Accomplishment! (And cleaner shirts.)

Fabulous Hare Loss

The greatest (fake) upset in sport is
When that rabbit let the tortoise
Close a massive gap by choosing
Napping over work and losing
When they clearly could have won
By staying wakeful till they’d run
Across the finish line. The moral:
Sleep is good.
No notes.
No quarrel.

Not In My Backyard

Everything’s a lot, I know:
SCOTUS just aborted Roe
v. Wade well past the third trimester;
Putin’s troops keep creeping wester;
Climate change grows more alarming
Every day; while that’s all charming,
There’s a more important issue:
Spiders in the toilet tissue!
Fuel prices; high inflation;
Insurrection-based frustration;
All that fades the day you find
Arachnids on your bare behind
That got there when they hitched a ride
On what cleans up your underside.
The world’s a steaming mess, no doubt,
But T.P. spiders? Wipe. Them. Out.

Cup Half-Empty

When deadlines loom that caffeine zoom’s
A boon, but when your tummy’s sore
Your coffee still can’t drink itself
So what the hell is science for?

Crunch Rhyme

I’m not going to work on this.
Don’t have the time.
There’s more on my schedule
Than crafting a rhyme
Or excreting in iambs
And stanzas all night.
What can I say?
I’ve just no time to write.

Judgement Day

The ballots have been tallied
And the envelopes are sealed
The paragraphs prepared for when
The winners are revealed

It’s lots of fun but when we’re done
That aftertaste’s because
We care way more for this than for
The folks who write our laws

Catlap

There’s a cat on my lap.
I have places to be
And appointments to keep
But the cat on my knee–
Well, my lap–is asleep
So my options are few:
Keep the cat on my lap…
And there’s no number two.