Poetry

Anyway . . .

A passion
might be nice,
or a pain
in the ass
waking me at
four
in the
morn to
scribble
nonsensical
crap
on yellow
legal pads,
a ledger of
sad
grasping at
greatness,
mad
genius
I would
imagine –
but not
today,
today I
ate a
burrito,
the whole thing
even though
I was full
halfway
through,
my
contribution
to a
September
Saturday.
Say what
you may,
it was a
really big
burrito
and that’s the
best I’ve got
till Monday

Categories: Poetry

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