Inspiration has taken
a vacation. Awaken
from misshapen
anger and tell
me what’s
wrong.

Try to write calm.
Why would it matter?
Pretend a baby depends
upon your ability to be calm,
“even though I’d rather slather on
some raw emotion; it is my focus.” Just
become a silken sky and send summer onto
someone’s skin, bring them in to the smell of food,
they’re standing all alone in a cold room, bring them home,
and you, and I will have a brighter mood, refined and renewed.

If you want
to know, this
is what I aim for,
sure, I miss more oft
than I use words like oft
just so the slope won’t cut

off—
(I just
love the
word just)

& challenge myself to have rhythm
when heard, shape when seen, and
an alliterative abundance of images
to ski down a slanted rhyme scheme.