Friday 3/29/2013

ugh, last thing
I feel like doing
is writing a poem

M. hands me a Hall’s
Mentholyptus wrapper:

Keep your chin up

Put a little strut in it

Elicit a few “wows” today

You got it in you

…while you’re
hacking up your lungs
I guess. Good I managed

to escape (knock knock)
the flu. Can’t escape
language. Menu items,
Gratitude Cafe:

I AM VIBRANT! salad.
I AM FESTIVE! taco salad.
I AM FREE! gluten free muffins.

i don’t know how
to write. i can’t
write. what is a
poem? am i writing
something

Lines:

must I cave into implications that
I should be proprietor of another’s happy
hour? They are, nonetheless, damn happy when
a precious echo returns with interest.

—Thomas Fink, “Deconstructed Sestina II,” After Taxes, p. 63.

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