Sunday, September 21, 2014

Blocked

I don't know what to write.
I could eat something. 
I could see if the news has changed. 

Perhaps someone will refute 
the latest stats 
on the climate.

Or maybe
that new threat to our country 
will strike us dead.

In the meantime,
I can't do the dishes. 
They are in the KitchenAide

churning away, 
eating their dirt 
like a hungry whatever.

You might think, oh, 
it is better to be silent 
than to ooze senseless words.

But suppose, 
through no fault of my own, 
something meaningful comes out.

What then? 
Your thought was wrong. 
Completely!

I like to imagine 
all the seemingly useless lives 
that were on the wrong track, 

barking up the wrong tree, 
like all the alchemists
trying to make gold out of this or that... 

and then for the few, 
something happened and we became 
more civilized, or less...

depending on
how you look at it.
So, I'm so blocked,

with nothing
at all to say,
except that [I know]

you can't get wet 
unless you go out 
in the rain.

Which isn't 
really true
but what the hell!

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