I've reached a Zen-like state of understanding. I know I cannot finish all that I have to finish, and so I won't.
This is the sound of one hand clapping. In this spirit, I present to you the first installment of
Overread Open-mic!
where all poetry must be haiku, and all poetry must be awful!
Feel free to join in - it's a 5-7-5 syllable form, and it's best to have a twist of some sort on the last line.
My plate, heaping tall,
Jealous tasks, stealing my time.
I sit, unperturb'd.
Papers, by students sent,
befoul my innocent drive.
Someone, call a priest.