I need to write…
an unbidden mantra in my head
an unwelcome guest
crowding my thoughts

Lives floating in my consciousness

– a dead chicken:
“but oh, she was a good mother…”

– a bad maneuver by a taxi driver
suicidal or homicidal?

– “the man shot him in the chest,
I want his hat, he said…”

– Jokes among colleagues:
“I got to choose my friends,
but, alas, to my peril, my enemies like me…”

Rude awakening for me…
I thought i was over this phase of
willful Romanticism and flowery prose
I thought i had grown out of
lilies in the field and clouds in my head…
I thought gravity had finally taken its toll on me
and with much delight, I could finally … relate.

Is this regression or arrested development?

I need to write.



Ach, I need to write!


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