Usually not a big proponent of prompts or poetic forms, but figured eh, why not?

Late again. Still not done.
This morning was chilly but
then the clouds burned off.
Already these lines are not
the right length, I contain multi

-tudes too, but poorly.
Too short. Too long. Is the point
of school to deaden
the soul prior to working?
It was unclear, so I went

back for more and still
don’t know, anything, really.
Except that even
a few words a day can be
delightful sedition

when they are not
the stilted citations
expected of me;
a casual study of
clouds needs no peer reviewing,

and even flat guidelines
for laboratory safety
can be converted to
poetry if one needs it
badly: All compressed gas

is hazardous, and
most cylinders are equipped
with pressure relief
valves, but if these fail an [extraordinary]
amount of energy

can be released, fast;
this is straight from the standard
operating
procedures but what it means
is better to fudge the lines,

four for a five,
or six for a seven,
the importance is
writing–  i.e. matter, expanding
(and relatively safely).