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NaPoWriMo Day 14

(writer’s block 1) 

 

i’m riding my bike early one morning.

alone in the park.   happy as a lark.

filling my lungs with the cool morning air.

out of the blue:   the hand of god or some

other fucked up thing shoves a giant red

cube directly in my path & bamm!    i

run right into it. 

                             stars around my head.

my bike ruined.  front tire bent & flattened.

sitting on the grass with scraped knees & hands.

blood running from my nose. 

                                                 & now it starts

to rain.   heavy drenching downpour.    thunder

& lightning & golf-ball-sized hail.   oh why

is the poetic muse so biting?     &

what happened to that poem i was writing?

 

 

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