Wednesday, December 17, 2014

poem of the day 12.17.14


it is
in those moments
up doing what you’ve
been doing for years
when you suddenly
find yourself
without the words
the resolute desire to create
just sitting there
staring at the wall
and the clock
that you begin to wonder
if this is it
the magic gone
the joy
the fun
time to hang it up
and simply go to work
food down your mouth
two to three times a day
sit on the bus
reading a bestseller
or shouting
into a cell phone
at some poor bastard
coming home
to the couch
communing with the television
those regrets
those thwarted dreams
left with nothing
but to wait on bed or death
just as weak
and vulnerable
as all the rest

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