Batch

Some days paper planes just aren’t crafted.
Not a one paper ball in the basket.

No Damocles pencils hung overhead.
No doodles; no notes…no lines, live or dead.

My bandwidth unfettered with nowt to learn.
I’ve signal for miles; for dropped calls I yearn.

Efficience killed my procrastination.
It cant have my self-edification.

I finish my thoughts; production awaits.
Schedule harvests. I forget to be late.