will the aches
and pains
subside
when i’m no longer forced
to sit in an uncomfy chair
for hours
and hours
and hours at a time?
[goodness i hope so]
will the aches
and pains
subside
when i’m no longer forced
to sit in an uncomfy chair
for hours
and hours
and hours at a time?
[goodness i hope so]
i have such a mind for some kind of
metaphorical simile-esque allegorical writing
right now, but the actual writing brain
isn’t really thinking at the moment, so i
suppose i’ll just take down my desires and
re-evaluate in the morning
[or the next morning]
[or the next next morning]
i cannot tell
if the emotional
or intellectual toll
is highest
for these
grand jury days
[but i am solidly
exhausted
at the end of the day
either way]
i don’t know what to write
[i don’t know how to write]
my brain has been sucked dry
and all that’s left is
stardew
valley
this vibe
of music
of cello and piano and drum
of experimenting with the strings
and riffing on the keys
and the steady, floating and capturing beat underneath
is exactly the vibe i need
for this morning
[let’s hear it for modern jazz]
a poem to call to waking
the brain that’s still sedated
for what is more startling
than words not expecting
and an intellectual search in the mind-house
’tis the season
for my skin to start
hating
everything
[perhaps i should start bringing some lotion
with me, solely for post-circus purposes]
the things seen
so far not
coming into my dreams
[but have i even been asleep long enough
to fully enter rem
and dream
yet?]
spooky season
starting out with
the scariest thing of all:
Grand Jury Duty
not only is today
an anniversary
for the kips,
it also marks
four and a half years
of
every
single
day
poetry-writing
[and sharing
here]