A poem written each day upon waking. It's mostly unedited. I think that's the point. Promise not to laugh, or let me give up, and please, wish me luck.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
2/16/11
So tough to cart around
this sickly suit -
it's quieting vibrations
a'rising from the root.
might I mutter
'goodness gracious'
drop it off,
and carry on.
No comments:
Post a Comment