In Which My Thoughts Go Round And Round Like Deep Blue's Wheels

I'm restless. I've had quite an afternoon,

With much occurring and yet naught at all.

The tension's built up too much and so soon

I've got to let it out. My bike doth call.

What did I ever do before Deep Blue

When situations rose that drove me nuts?

I no longer remember, have no clue

Just how I used to pull myself from ruts.

My bicycle and sonnets rule my days.

'Tis discipline, I think, which is all good

But days like this I feel somewhat enslaved

To both, but realize, try as I would

That habits, good, or bad, govern me still

I only think I've something like free will.