To Do

There’s a broken bird feeder that’s been hanging in the front yard
for months.
The roof is unmoored from the walls save for a corner;
A dangling skull with a gaping mandible.
The corpse of my plans I suppose.
I’ll fix it this weekend—
next month—
before the spring.


as I looked up from my screen,
I saw a swallow hanging—
pecking at its seeds.
In its claws
my house—
overgrown with brush and vines.
It would crumble
before the spring.
Swallowed by the earth,
while the swallows fly.
Poetry about procrastination is often the most fervently written. You did good justice to the subject here. Good stuff!

The funny thing is,

I was supposed to be writing a poem from a prompt for an english class--an assignment that I had been putting off because the prompt was boring.

When I finally sat down to write it, I wrote this instead so I wouldn't have to write the other one.

I don't know if I like the last two lines though, something about them seems a bit corny.

Thanks for reading.