ADD TITLE LATER (an ode to midterms)

Fffalling tripping drooping letmejust
finish one last sentence that’lljust
make sense cuz I tucked rightintobed
Wednesday right orwasthat Monday night
maybe it was morning but there’sstill
no time like the present soI’llclose
my eyes, I’m fine, one quicksecondand

What Shakespeare meant by his first line I do
Not know if culture’s independent of
My grades which are not slipping as fast as
My hands right off my keyboard staring at
A bright blank Word screen make it less than one
Full page the timer beeps it’s time for break
ing up my lines deadlines long passed I think
It must not matter if the rhythm sleeps

Threee days more ‘till bed
Twoo more hours of sitting
One more question will the haze stop because
Fffalling makesense drooping letmejust
More bed it’s more ssssitting

**be sure to edit before submitting**

a toast

pardon me, honored
wedding guests and the like
if you would take a moment from
your distilled brews
your crafted brows
your beeswax candles
your stage-managed tans
your shining shoes
your sparkling dresses
your neon drinks
and the cold air blasting through our hearts meanwhile
I’d like to break a glass–

here here! to the exile!

writer’s block, take 2

My writer’s block is a block
Wooden and small enough to focus on.
Six sides meant to teach someone somewhere something
Somehow.
So, inspiration?
Frustration.
Damn.
Okay.
Okay. On one side, the red letter A for
An anthem? Answers? A guide? To?
A blue Q on the other side, for
Questions?
“Ask questions and—”
And?
Stare intensely and intensity might spark out
Right? Center on the bold colors on the
Pure and light and simple wood and
Hold it in your hand and
Are you ready?
No?

Of course you’re not.

Come out at 2 a.m., slightly buzzed
On a left-over loose-leaf notebook
Saturday night, bizarre
With one roommate dozing and
One light on

Turn the sharp corner
But it’s—
No
Forget it

Stop thinking. Just
Scribble, jot, don’t stop to dot or cross
Look away from the block

You’re not ready
So go