Empty as a Pocket
Staring down the channel
of my next 15 minutes;
certain only that the boredom
of the moment won’t do anymore.
And the patterns of the old days need to change
Yet the old dog can’t escape the comfort of his ways.
And the puzzle lies inert before my eyes,
rendering only mosaics with no pattern,
no picture, no way to put together
my passion for another 15 minutes.