I haven't been writing - on here, in my head, or pretty much anywhere. not writing hurts my little soul. I have stuff in my head and I haven't been able to formulate it into anything comprehensible. this weekend I'm going to the Dodge Giving Voices poetry program and I need to bring four poems with me to share with the other participants (poems by other people, not  by me). so I was looking through philip schultz's failure, which was gifted to me by a friend a few months ago. and then it was like a flood - just phrases and ideas. it's a bit of a work in progress, but it's something better than nothing.

why do we close our eyes
when we hear bad news?
to not see the pain
that has come
into our ears?
as if
it can be shut out
or turned off -

I think this
as I tell him
I have never made
a pot of coffee.
I wouldn't even know
how it is supposed to taste -
how you taste -
this is a thing
I could never offer you -

I think this
as I drive
and I see things
and ask myself
about metaphors in nature -
like the crow
eating the dead squirrel
in the road -
what does it mean -
am I the crow?
or the squirrel?
or both
or neither.

I think this
and I close my eyes to it
the thought of it -
the thought of you
and the coffee
and the things
I can
never give.

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