i forgot to write something clever,
so in haste,
i came up with this lame excuse for a poem,
and hopefully it will help me pass
my imaginary quota to feel productive
i keep humming a tune to the rhythm of what
i think might be my heart,
but it sounds a bit off,
so i don’t know if that a portent for things to come,
since i’m no doctor, nor should i pretend to be one
i keep hearing the radio play in the background,
even though i don’t own a radio,
and i was told, but it’s yet to be confirmed,
that the radio is dead at the hands of some dashing
leading actor/actress combo that looks visually stunning,
but i also heard that was only because of cgi
Fred Aiken Writing 