December 31, 2024

nothing like reading
other people’s poems
to make me feel like
a fraud

a fake poet made out of
three tiny actors
in a trenchcoat

a fake poet made of
a whole slew of fake mustaches
attached to fake noses
and prescriptionless plastic glasses

a fake poet made of
a whole buncha prose
lined up
in shorter
stanzas

a fake poet made out of
experiences
pondered

[but maybe
that’s all a
poet needs to be]

December 14, 2022

i don’t really know
what i’m writing this morning
i just know
i wish i had
some
dopamine/serotonin/anything
to keep me company
through this season

~~~

is my
not having
an up-to-date phone
just a reminiscence of being
four versions out of date
in my aol/internet service
and therefore
a form of
comfort?

~~~

writing poems
and hearing the rhymes
that didn’t make it in
but somehow
making the poem
fuller
is a weird sort of poet magic