Sunday, August 10, 2014

some days my brain is all fogged up
with downloads, bills and sweet rolls 
the rain stopped after seven days
no prose will fill the sink holes

my fingers stall on every verb
adverbs steal my vision
prepositions have withdrawn
“don’t write” is my decision

people think the juices flow
from dawn till dark at will
sometimes writers get so stuck
they must drink wine and chill

tomorrow is another day
perhaps a thought will surface
a magic word reveals itself
the writer finds her purpose

from Doggerel Days, Volume III