These last few moments (a poem)

Today’s entry comes a bit late, as I got a late start this morning, finished my copy editing this afternoon, and dragged myself to a writing critique this evening, leaving me not so much time for writing…

the words aren’t coming
I’m reduced to rubbing my eyes
until I see the psychedelic checkerboards
then remember I got rid of the backgammon set
because there’s no one to play with anymore
If I’d left early
words might’ve come when I needed them
and someone else would be self-inducing pseudo-hallucinations
then writing a ‘poem’ to tell me all about it
In these last few moments
that will have to do

(9 May 2017)

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