What a curious choice
This man has made
When so many appropriate options
Exist in its stead

Armed with a delicate silver spade
Fitted with dainty barbs
He plunges forth
Again, and again, and again

Even without sweet comfort
He forges ahead

Against the sour and bitter

Looks from others
Furrowed brows and scowls
Lodged against the decision
To eat grapefruit on the bus

I’ve done it again.
I forgot to bring a fucking pad and pen.

Now I am trapped
Bursting inside
With fantastic shit to write.

Lyrical eloquence of copious quantities
A torrential flow of piquant melodies

Encumbered by my knowledge
Of self- limitation,
I curse inspiration.
Because by the time I arrive
At my escritorial haven and sit,
I will be a halcyon glacier
Of meter, foot, and wit.