the task

there are times I hate
the rushing river time
too many tasks
too little sleep
and all the while
the blood I test eight times a day
lingering on my tongue

so I cling to any escape
lace growing exponentially
on knitting needles
mindless television
that I can hear
without having to watch
the shelves upon shelves of books
that I will read
maybe this summer

and then
there are chances like these
where friends get together
and do something more
frightening than possible
thirty poems in thirty days
when can I find time
with school
and work
and the six hours of sleep
I try to steal each night

but I do it
not because it’s easy
but because the insanity
reminds me who I am
and what I can do
and why I love it
no matter how hard
that's why I say
thanks to the taskmaster
I'll miss this

when we're done