Eric Ashford Poet Free verse

The Command

The command is to write -
but every day you wake up
saying to yourself:

"I can't write, I was never taught,
my fingers are illiterate appendages
of a cheap Japanese laptop,
my mind is too oddly shaped
it has no dustcover
its pages have wormholes
holes that smaller worms fall through."

Every day the same old thing,

and a plasma screen mocks you,
mocks your open slack mouth,
your dull eyes,
the slow grinding inertia of every thought.

The command is insistent,
it prods the soft belly of your cringing ego,
demands a pound of flabby words
be made flesh,

and so, you tap random keys listlessly
until another string of consciousness
unwinds itself
into a last line,
that if not memorable,
yet at least will not live long enough
to disgrace you.

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