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Andy Conner

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A Work In Progress

My car lies on the driveway
Showing several striking features
It hasn’t any wheels
And the engine rests in pieces
As rust devours the body
Mould grazes on the seats
You could say it’s a work in progress


I’ve started on the kitchen
On seventeen occasions
Plumbing, units, floor and tiles
In random combinations
You could mistake my efforts
For complete disintegration
In fact, it’s a work in progress


I’m really quite athletic
Though I never do too much
Olympians will tell you
That it’s dangerous to rush
What if my calves and biceps
Soften when they’re touched
They feel like a work in progress


I’m not a single man
I just haven’t found a wife
To stand before the altar
And declare it’s all for life
We’ll kiss again and cut the cake
Soon as I find the knife
Love’s another work in progress

 

My world dissolves in puddles
Of discontinued actions
Countless schemes and projects
Not signed off to satisfaction
You wouldn’t get a whole
If you added all the fractions
I guess I’m a work in progress

This poem isn’t finished
And I’m running out of rhymes
I’m capable of writing more
But haven’t found the time
If I manage to complete it
It’ll probably be fine
And I’ll call it

Andy Conner

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Page(s) 39-40

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