(no subject)
365 poems / 365 days.
Already days late and not knowing how to begin.
cramped in a waiting room. It is impossible to work at home -- impossible to think through blankets and snow, impossible impossible.
But here, the body is in revolt!
So. No thinking. It's always this way. Can't think. The body is in revolt.
Which leads me to the obvious:
The body is revolting.
Already days late and not knowing how to begin.
cramped in a waiting room. It is impossible to work at home -- impossible to think through blankets and snow, impossible impossible.
But here, the body is in revolt!
So. No thinking. It's always this way. Can't think. The body is in revolt.
Which leads me to the obvious:
The body is revolting.