PROCRASTINATION OF POETRY

Yesterday, I tried to swallow my need for immediate gratification as long as humanly possible by NOT posting Absolutely Everything I Wrote as soon as I wrote it.

The portion size was approximately one fully-composed-though-unposted thought.

Once I got over the initial heart burn (masquerading as a heart attack), I experienced a severe bout of prolonged nausea! Even writing about it now makes me sick to my stomach.

After that, I had to go to sleep to escape the discomfort.

Boy, am I glad I did! I can’t believe the spoils I almost posted yesterday!

I finally had to regurgitate the whole mass out to you. Here it is in a giant emesis:

“I thought I was making the broader point rather than the finer point.”

Aren’t you glad I hated it but still procrastinated it?