(click below for the poem’s audio)
Write one and then another
and drink a little
to get back down
to the basics
the place we all came from
and will return to.
Write one today for her.
Another tomorrow for them.
A few more down the road
for whatever reason I want to,
whatever reason they need me to,
and always remember that grammar
is the equivalent to shackles.
You must know the rules before you play the game,
but you cannot let the rules dictate
Write again today.
Put off the good stuff until tomorrow.
Just get it all out and free and loose and remember that you’ve come a long way.
Far from the wrong end of a shotgun.
Far from the sharpest knife in the kitchen.
Far, far away from the noose.
Leave it all alone and move on.
Just move, move, move it along.
There is nothing else to any of this except for the daily sins.
Of our Father,
Our Holy Ghost.
All of them from us.
All of us from them.
Again and again and again.
Round and round and round it goes,
where it stops only the writer knows.