On such days as one’s organs will conspire
Against coherent thought, what can one do
Apart from rest, recover, and retire
And hope the brain will be restored anew?

Indulge in World Cup, perfect omelets,
With stimulating stories interspersed,
Refreshing hot tub soaks with forceful jets,
Accept some days make mediocre verse.

Yet, poor mental connections can’t be faulted
When one is asked for plot, rather than theme,
Fecundity of thought is what’s exalted-
Fortuitous requests the self redeem.

At least this day of measly motivation
Occurred when I am taking a vacation.