I’ve always been able to do this.
with words; to write a poem,
a story in prose,
this word has perplexed me.
Maybe I’ve lost my touch,
my muse disabled, my ability to compose
lost in some monochrome
of muted confusion.
The weekend, gone in two hours
with creative potential left
and embarrass my ass,
unable to complexify or sophisticate
Words with characteristic poetic aplomb,
to roll out enough dribble
to meet the challenge of lettering
up something good enough.
Confused by wordly entanglement,
Looking both ways is not always the answer.
Mind the gaps and write away.