going backward in time now
i missed these pages the first
time through.
what can i tell you, it’s a
monday morning
and that’s all i can say
except for the rain
but as they say
if not something nice
then nothing at all
the coffee is good and
is hitting the spot
but the spot is extra
large this morning
this rainy, monday morning
sitting and waiting
patiently, for a change
white beer this time
sam adams has some nerve.
sitting and waiting
and smoking and drinking
and lying and waiting
for something to change.
what’s left when you’re
left with yourself
only blame
and waiting
and smoking
and drinking
i haven’t talked to my friend
in a number of weeks
and that usually means good things
for him, at least
all the while
i’m sitting and waiting
and patiently smoking
my white beer away
i have been trying to immerse myself
in the creativity of others
my goal of writing copious amounts
of wordy, bad, heady poetry
hasn’t been going so well.
i get caught up in the
verse
chorus
verse
structure and the
trying not to rhyme
thing
this all happens before
pen
hits
paper
with no pen in hand
i’ve got a million reasons
not to do
all the things
that i never do.
