Exquisite boredom

We are bored, in our waiting,
In  art’s exquisite boredom.

Yawns escape cringe worthy
Wide chasms in deep throat.

We keep to-do list booming
And complex, with offshoots

Of more lists, more booming.
We have sheep legs waiting

To recount where we left off
In brown valleys of boredom.

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