Tongue. In. Cheek.


Can’t think of a thing to say…
I wish I could. I’d like to.
Lying here in my teal-blue flannel jammies
poetry reaching out from the page
connecting with my brain.

Rocking me.
Moving me.
Making an awesome impression.

I want to do that too.

I want to write
powerful words of eloquence
with a touch of grace
humor to boot
wisdom so profound
and so gut-wrenching,
readers will nod their heads
with knowing approval
whenever my name is mentioned
(in reverence)
some fifty-odd years from now
at poetry circles
(slams will have become


How am I doing so far?

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