About lists and being late

i have begun to write
lists. in the aftermath
of becoming the grass,
earth and the sky, after
my long-beautiful slumber
i have woken up by a need
to jot down whats going
to happen in my life. control.
there is a list about eating,
a list about walking, a list
about what to steal and
what not to. there is a list
about surprises which must
be purloined impolitely.
there is a list about treating
women, being charming
and a list about being a joy
to be around other people.
There is a list about what
not to be and what not to
care about; and amongst
these many pieces of
orange, yellow, green
and white-smudged paper
is my scribble-scratch-
scribble parchment of
what to write about it. Of
all the pieces of paper,
this says the least by
saying the most. Ideas,
plans and world domination.
There is an inherent sadness
in being rip van winkle's
dream. Like glistening fish
on a silver dish. Like poems
recognized in death. Like my
waste-landscaped list.