A Month is far too much

Going into this with a plan of attack
or half an idea, or even a segment at a pinch
would have been very, very, very, useful.
Instead each poem is done on the fly;
flying by the seat of my pants
hoping inspiration hits home
rather than a bird strike of writer's block.
Thirty poems on the tarot, or food,
or history of that day,
or the study of barnacles,
or anything pre-planned really
could have solved the daily disaster
of needing a poem and having nothing to peddle
a wordsmith without anything to hit out.
A week would have been enough,
A month is far too much
and seems to be far longer I remember it being.
I will be well and truly buggered,
metaphorically not literally mind you,
if it was a year of poems.
Self imposing a rule of
one hundred unique words
hardly helps the situation.
Another one down
onto the next one
maybe I'll have a better idea by then.