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MicMag Dec 2018
My thoughts run sprints
My mind won't slow down
But when pen's put to paper
No phrases can be found

I knock on their door
But the words won't come out
Locked in their room
They just laze and pout

Inspiration's still here
But my muse has gone mute
Its stubborn vow of silence
Renders my thoughts moot

It's not mere writer's block
I'd say it's more radical
My poetry has decided
To take a sabbatical
Irate Watcher Sep 2014
The router's a strobe light;
I can't connect.
The microwave fritzed,
I can't heat.
The circuit shut;
guess no electricity.
Ayo no technology.
Let's talk ancient
philosophy,
NOT whether
Beyonce is a feminist.
Let's have a bonfire
and roast meat
cause none of us
were vegan
before this.
Let's light candles
in the streets.
Pray batteries die
on LCD screens.
Cause we were alchemists
before technology,
the versed probing
the multiverse,
thrilled,
lighting our golden
embroidery on life.
Now were just bored.
Coy toys to tied strings,
webs that touch
everything,
but the space between.
Declaring Sunday a sabbatical from LCD screens.

— The End —