Writing Poetry Old School
The internet is down so I decide to go “old school”
I have conjured up a notebook and a black pen
Come on, I encourage myself, you used to do this all the time
My fingers are itching to type
We have typed every poem for the past seven years
You can do it! I reassure them
The right hand picks up the pen
What do I do? My left hand queries in a sad way
You get to hold the notebook down, I reply
Tried to sound reassuring and enthusiastic
We both know it’s a mundane creepy job
words 99
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