Thursday June 3, 2010

The blank sheet shines whitely.
Joyce didn’t have this problem.
Sometimes.
You gotta blow the lights out.
Recall the day,
Slashed as by a Griffin,
It spills in an instant
As if by accident.
Don’t rue it.
Build a memorial
By writing
A series
Of poems.
It’s never perfect.
But you can release it over time.
It might spread
Like oil
Across
A page;
An ocean.
There’s no penalty
For blogging.