Knocked these two out today while on the train.

Distractions

Distractions abound, at home and work

When I want to do anything of worth

When cooking, or cleaning, driving, and reading

Always extracting, and detracting, from consecutive thought

Only doing the most trivial things

Is when it refuses to cling

Never exacting its price

When I start thinking of something worth dreaming, I lose all practical advice

It’s so demeaning, when in meetings; I have to ask for things twice

And here I am writing about the distractions inviting, except that which gives me my pay

I was supposed to be grafting, instead I am just crafting, Useless things to say.

Bird at window

Up down, up down, pause then wiggle the bird outside twitches and fiddles

Movement changes from smooth to jerky, it waits on the rail. Inside it’s a Thursday

My work and tasks of Sisyphus are laid down and I watch the uncertain tail twitching

Its life as precarious as the fall to the tarmac below

Is it a Wagtail? I cannot say, not a twitcher and none here today

But its uncertainty is in synchronicity with my labour

I look down at my work before resuming my worth

A valuer says “will it fall if pushed?” 

No. It will flap for all its worth.