I guess its enough

I keep thinking I'm not doing enough, but today I wrote up my critical essay on the triolet, wrote 10 triolets and a sonnet. I also read some mythology, some E.B. Browning and some C.K. Wright. Here's the sonnet - it's a kind of crazy, abstract, word sausage poem:

(abstract) Wind-a-Mill Sonnet

Shattered like a slatted treadmill scattered

Flustered, blistered, beyond all things plastered

Rattled as though they existed and stuttered

Meddled and blissed and then again scuttled

Battened as though listed, they were flattered

Wrestled through windfarms oddly flickered

Faltered as they toasted odd wind-a-mills shattered

Fluttered because misted and duly mastered

Knitted, busted whereof knew, they muttered

Pickled, puckered, battered, fattened, muddled

Shuttered, were it wasted, were it not puttered

Adulated though twisted until patterned

Mattered it not, glittered, glistened when erred

Sheltered to be boasted in the wind and flittered