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Impromptu

i woke hard ly notic ing that she she is nude modeling i am crudely drawing her figure with words refreshing my page on my computer on my paper erasing distasteful mistakes taking away layers of lost years res urrect ing myself in 2/4 cut time asking the metronome to slow to largo so i can dance with her flames the heart of fire is heat in heat i find her one time i did this once hands held over a bum's barrel in a Boston barrio her torso torturing me to a fever pitch throw another poem in

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Maureen Mcgreavy

Date: 2/8/2019 12:35:00 PM

I enjoyed that. :)

Jeff Connelly
Date: 2/8/2019 1:35:00 PM

So happy you did. In an un-Hitleresque way, a dear friend and I used to burn our old poetry from the previous year. Burn only the lines that were never meant to be. Never keep them in your head. In Boston, after an Irish pub with a harp, not the beer; but profusely calmed by Jameson and Guinness, my friend and I burned that last years' slop and scum that clung onto our thoughts of poems that never got or made the grade. Thanks Maureen!!!