Thursday, February 21, 2013

Why I Write, Part x+173: My Pen Is In My Hand

I'm having a hydraulic kind of day.
My swami up and swam away
When the tile under me began to sway.
It gave like sand, and hurt my feet anyway.

Some days I don't feel solid, even on dry land,
But I go to someplace better, once my pen is in my hand.

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