Lists

My mind 

is overgrown 

with lists unending, 

malignant, their own blood 

supply of attention, obligations 

bloated and unchecked, dependent 

on a steady diet of unfinished business. 

My mind became overgrown with growing lists. 

I promised to take shears to their rootlets, pour acid 

where growth continued, snaking and tough. To the list 

I added Do what you must to stop multiplication and worked 

diligently, head down, one by one crossing through with black 

marker the extensive catalog of tasks, but when it came time to 

retrieve shears, buy acid, I found desire turned to rot and instead used

the day to help my husband make space in our garage for his shiny new Ski-Doo.