Heading to work

Again almost time to leave for work
and there's so much else I'd rather do.
I'm sure, dear reader, you have no idea
what I'm talking about, do you?
Piles of new and ancient books lurk
around every corner. Once I thought they
could raise me up, be a panacea.
But if you don't exercise them they stay
flat and frigid, unable to breathe.
So I hide some of them away in
closets and thick boxes where they seethe
and plot some revenge starting at my shin.
But away to the office I must go
with dust on the books and my head held low.

I've been enjoying playing with the sonnet form lately. I don't know if there's much to this one, but I think it's fairly pleasant.

New Yea's Sonnet

Another year squeezed from its tube,
and now the louts toast their Facebook
friends, the crowded square, their social lube--
the ball drops and they quickly look
for someone to kiss. But for me, no,
I don't want any part of this. I know
I get strange looks when I say it now
but I no longer want to wake up how
I have so many times, parched, with a look
of death, head splitting, feeling a rube
because I got sick in some nook
or stared too long at that friend's boob.
Tonight keep me far from spirits and beer
so I can stand on both feet in the new year.

I just want to say that I don't begrudge anyone their good time, don't get me wrong. I hope you all had a great new year's eve and will have an amazing 2011.