My random morning poem

I have decided,
to write for half an hour.
Let the unwashed clothes wait in a pile.
I’ll allow the rice to soak a little longer,
ignore the un-ironed clothes in the basket,
watch my mother-in-law mask her irritation.
Dust settles every second on every idle thing.
My mind, untouched for a year,
now has grime an inch thick.
Today, I will not look at the unwashed dishes in the sink
nor pause to put the newspapers in order
or clean up the little ones messy room
or put the unpaid bills in the folder.
I will escape into a room with no internet connection
and stare long at the white screen,
write nonsense into it,
use backspace as eraser, unashamedly.
Till I feel lighter in my head,
free of dusty inhibiting doubts,
use the half hour to free myself of guilt
and once it is done, go online, to facebook.