Making A Mess [r] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Instead of cutting my way through dense foliage
with my machete, I fight the many-headed hydra
with my long sword and every time I cut off one
head,2 more appear in its place, doesn't matter
which Portuguese term is found, it doesn't make
sense in the context and looking up the nouns &
verbs separately is not much help, the heat in the
office of 26 degrees C contributes to falling asleep
as I sit in my chair, this is a life and death fight &
requires being intelligent and alert while my head

is governed by the little alien thoroughly bored by
the Regulation text, valiantly I fight against all the
factors working against my attempt to relay from
Portuguese into English with the help of Google
translate and exhausted I try to engage a clever
brain cell or two to complete my Herculean task,
the hydra is lifting its many heads and I fend off
an attack on my self-esteem - because it's very
difficult to think well of oneself when failing like
this, but the fight is a challenge and breaks the

boredom of everyday life, let me continue in my
thankless task of making a mess…