Sep 2011
Coffee and words,
always more words.
Lost between youth & mid-life
listening to others read their work
applauding quietly while
muttering about doing it better yourself.
Dribbling words like splattering coffee
on empty pages,
stains on the sheets.
How do you **** your muse?
I like ****** notebooks
Myself.
always more words.
Lost between youth & mid-life
listening to others read their work
applauding quietly while
muttering about doing it better yourself.
Dribbling words like splattering coffee
on empty pages,
stains on the sheets.
How do you **** your muse?
I like ****** notebooks
Myself.
This is the oldest poem I have...was written in the late 80's at a poetry jam put on by my favorite coffee house at the time...the Cafe No in Portland Maine. I had been writing poetry long before this one...its just the oldest one I have now.- From Poetry Jam (on Toast)
