This blank page
Staring at me
Blankly
Stupidly
Whitely
Shall I throw paint at it
Like some new age simian artist
Or roll my motorcycle through pans of paint
Then ride around upon it
Leaving the gyroscopic patterns of my circling behind
It's the old fallback that wins out
The littering and polluting on the blank canvas
With New Times Roman font
Random word association
No madness
No genius
Just opening the dictionary
And shaking it generously
Waiting to see what sticks to this canvas
Inspirations can wait
The Hair People of Havana
They have no fleshed out storyline yet
The Man and Dog in the desert
Quake upon the edge of something really interesting
Tales of the Wrench
Those semi-fictionalized accounts of doing what I do
Are only interesting to those to do the same
I should make a clip show
For days such as these
Remember when I wrote about that Red Chair?
How is was sexual
It was binding
How it even had flair......
Like Bart Simpson recalling yesterdays jape
Wayne
and Garth waving their hands in a flashback signal
But I won't
Today
I'm going to sit and watch the snow fall
On my newly green flowers
Not quite flowers yet
Just pretty green stalks
Coming up out of their bulbs
Decorated with late March snow
A hint of winter
A cool mint
Without the calories of a peppermint patty
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