Friday, April 15

Writing Is Like


Writing is like
skiing a slope
of white powder.
snot freezes on
lip, gnawed like
bark of trees you
evade, the mixed
metaphor timber,
the boulders of poor
word choice, other
skiers in your mind,
who shout, "get out
of my way, chump!
you're an amateur!"
your fingers and toes
and brain are numb, as
each word is like a new
swish swish swish swish
neverending swish until you
finally find a resting place at the bottom and blubber, "was that the kiddie slope?"


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