i cannot write every day
to my dismay
but it's okay, i guess
not like the rest
who do
boo hoo
but no
it's what comes
and then i give
there's no race
or test at the end
i wish i could finish number ten
in the short story collection
so i can hit send
you know i thought of this rant
in my sleep, and tossed and turned
and said i can't
do this
it's torture
but what i live for
dinner with friends
at a peruvian restaurant
last night, so good
it should
always be a moment
like that
but this moment
i must write
ok but after toast
and cappuccino
i know
i will
and also call my mom
to say hello
it's almost noon
and again she'll ask how soon
before i'm on the island
it's countdown
much to do
so let me clear my head
and make my bed
and eat and walk
and call and write
and stop slouching
sit up tall
and write and edit
before i hit a wall
and the tv calls me
to break
oh for pete's sake
gotta go
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