I write this word a lot –
almost two dozen times a day.
It’s on sticky notes, my hand,
it’s on my notebook –
every single page –
it’s on my mind.
I write until I can’t remember,
sometimes I write to forget.
There are days when time sneaks away
from me, and then there are days
when I am part of the
sixty six second minute.
That’s called fiction.
I can be in the right, or wrong.
And as long as I’m aware of that fact,
I’m right, again. So no matter,
I still win.
I have tried the whole rhyme thing,
but no good words rhyme with write.
It’s too predictable, it’s too much.
I can’t commit to one poem about a word.
It’s like a prison sentence.
That’s why I write it so much.
I space them, I slant them, I chant them,
and I rant about the whole process.
because I can.
Lack of editing, what have you.
I’m right. I’m still right.
And even when I’m wrong,