The couch holds no cushioning
Any longer.
It’s been tailored for my ***
That sinks into it
Day in and day out

Night after night
I conjure up past works
I try to throw them together
But it doesn’t.

It’s got me going again
Writing and learning
These poetics.
I’m gaining a voice
…. Unflattering
And disorganized
Yet, it is mine.

I’m done with this schooling
It’s time to educate myself.

But it’s easier said than done
While on a couch cushion
Across from a failing flame
Next to a torched bowl.

It’s been my fourth of July
Weekend
A weekend of solitude
With a touch of
These poetics.

I think it’s Thursday now,
or Wednesday.
I’ll be going outside
Blinding my eyes
From light.

Goodbye couch
‘ol buddy
‘ol pal
I’m sure it won’t be long.