Poem: It's Doing What Now?

It’s Doing What Now?

Why does his guitar
gently weep?

Was it your turn to
clean the floor?

Did you promise to
wake sooner?

I don’t see what
is so bad

about the world
rotating.

Maybe the learning
is greater

than all the mistakes
added up?

One can only hope—
fingers crossed.

Anyway, will you
please go get

Kleenex for George’s
sad guitar?

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