Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Toothache, testpapers, unanswered texts
Seemed trivial against writer’s block
That rendered tapes winding at extra speed.
Enemies in masquerade left essays undone;
Visions oozed from the pen’s ink
Temperate moods opposed the
Colds lingered in bed,
Earnest for the kindred
Of the visage that launched
A thousand vessels.
The ruthlessness of the private wars
Long prevailed in the midst
Of throbbing all against
Rivulets steadily streamed down
Why choose to stay
When I dare now throw hands
In sweet defeat?
Crushed to the marrow,
I vainly wait for snows to drift
Heading home but never quite—
The morning bus—
I always miss the ride.