A Day of Cancellations
False starts, a knee jumping
with nowhere to go. I had
a feeling this would happen.
No thank you, the kind message.
Not today, I’m afraid. A terrible
case of whooping cough.
A delayed ticket, a stalled set
if fitted feet, a hand raised.
Try another door, all full here.
I Write Words
some small, some
big enough to seem
grand. I look again,
not so much.
The advice goes to take
a set time each day.
Line up your words like
school children.
Lead them to lunch
in the page. Let them
play for the afternoon.
Or at midnight.
See what games they
can teach you as you let
them scoot off your
keyboard, diving in.
You Never Can Tell
and that’s probably true.
Though goodness knows
prognosticators are busy.
The electors are churning.
I want to predict the universe,
make a perfect blueprint.
On Tuesday at noon, I will...
and so forth.
Problem is, who can see beyond
their feet? Who can manage
the wordless void that is two
days from now?
One hour from now? One
second? The improviser takes
over, calmly as can be.
