There’s nothing more that I deplore
Than PostIts posted on a monitor.
Except perhaps the chairs that swivel
And paper clips clipping paper drivel.
The endless rows of endless binders
Are for me a stiff reminder
That I have failed in my attempt
To be unburdened and unkempt;
To be a poet and a thinker
A ramblin’ rogue or roguish tinker.
And so I write this last appeal,
Being but a cog in the wheel,
That through my sad example I inspire
Some other soul to something higher.