Ten-Finger Exercises

Poetic Justice

(This is a poem I submitted for the practice round of the Poetry SLAM. The topic was supposed to be bad habits. I got it in too late. Would you call that poetic justice? Anyway, I'll print it here because I like it. It's fun. Is this official doggeral?)

I glance at the clock when I wake in the morning,
An hour and a half before I must go.
I shower and I dress and I fix me some breakfast,
Turn on the computer; it boots up real slow.

I think I have time to check a few messages,
Then a few minutes for writer.com.
I’ll still have a moment to review a newbie
And get out in time to disarm the bomb:

The timeclock, it ticks, and takes no excuses.
I must be in place by a minute till eight.
Oops, back to the house for my cell phone and notebook,
And now oh look! oh no! I’m gonna be late.