pub. 3-19-23 - 129 words

Wake up in the morning (do not, I mean)
No energy for much more, it seems
Than Nothing and Nothing and Nothing

Slog around, carry your fog around
Electric brain-fog, via wires underground
Zaps you into obsequiousness

Part ways with it, away's the brume
But greeting's the gregarious Moon
In lieu of the Sun is a warm lamp

The traffic held up by the opaque mist
Comes now to the cortex with its impetuous fist
And a pencil and paper's all you want

But the Moon, you knew it couldn't be trusted
Hypnotizes you with all the power it can muster
And Earth's gravity holds your eyelids

Only a handful of strokes has your hand spewed
But the financial report is nearly due
So one must succumb to biology.