You thought things would stay that way forever,
was that naive? The only things we’d change
would be clothes. And the writing, it would go on,
would it not, and if that got waterlogged,
we’d barely had to move, let the earth soak,
the sun would come shining the strange colors,
we wouldn’t be morose–it’s one of those days–
and would not be stymied by fog or anything.
If there’re days when you’re feeling bloated,
you’d ride it out, or maybe at the end of the day
what we’re left with was a matter of pride–
when the call came you never wavered, had stayed
conscientious. Things do not stay the same,
that’s really something. One day you’d be paying
attention, another you’d be all balled up, and
then the next, you’d be gone in a heartbeat.
Hey you guys, how do you write? Do you do research, for instance, or do you wait for some kind of trigger? Do you extemporise? I do that a lot. Maybe it’s all of the above. I was just watching Ellen DeGeneres do it.
And decided to do a “thinking out loud” poem. It’s kind of being naked in your thoughts. And aren’t we humans interested in that, “what were you thinking?” Do you dare think out loud?