The Worst Kind of Work

Worst Kind of Work

I am the worst kind of work
the torture of flammable whims
mayhem absorbed through morose and malady
the illness that clogs up my mind for rousing dexterity
dizzy gestures fixes its way to fabricate an obstruction for the prevention of inspiration and ability
it molds a a kind of racket
like heads banging into a cement fence from the lethal disorganization
it is the hiss and mutter of the mentally confused
that echoes to seek reason and liberty from their disastrous position
a type that create wreckage from the construction site
where everything in sight is a bulge of hazard misfortune
where the sun can ignite the human shield into a decaying mob of clay
that reeks with the stench of milkweed and tobacco smoke in winter
a burst of thrash stumbles its way up for destruction in the plain eye sight
magnitude of musty metal and building pieces lined up for decoration

I am best kind of sabotage
I am the kind of flung papers with the scheduled tasks that have
once more rejected
dates of organized time for my duty and assignment
typed work and unpaid employment to meet expectations and requirements for future goals and destination
preparations taken too early
with stacks of lined work waiting on me for completion
stress and pressure
injects me with its contamination like the bacteria and virus
that drinks me whole by the bucket

It is hectic
gone beyond desire according to indecisive
motives and sluggish motions
by sticking to the wall like post it note with nothing better to do
than stand around
while acknowledging the assignments given to me
yet I continue to lay about

I am hindered
the one that goes by the name of Procrastination
the one of its best kind