Procrastination

BY JULIE CHEN


vision zooms out of focus.
drip of ink remains wet on parchment.
pen softens and flops over the arch of your thumb.
waves of light from a lamp vibrates against pupils but does not enter.
hand of a clock quivers and struggles vainly as it freezes against the force of delay.
work screams and complains beneath a pile of ignorance but indifference clogs the ears.
breeze from an open windows whispers against lips and tries to elicit an utter of focus but fails.
fingers strum away at a rubber band that shakes and trembles, breaking the stillness.
Whiffs of coffee roll around your nostrils, shrivel into dust and drop onto table.
dog is barking out on the sidewalk but somehow the volume is muted.
nails etch a figure on paper, something vaguely resembling a rocket.
wall before the face becomes colorful yet blankly engaging.
pile of work that awaits begins to visually swell.
Despite guilt, sit and spit out irrelevant words
and tap away at a keyboard
writing little verses.