Words
stick in my throat,
so narrow,
fallow
lying lined in my gullet
unsaid
and
unsound
unfound on any page
known to both
you and I.
Words
stick in my throat,
as I hear myself
silent
scream
(paradox):
Shut Up & Write!
…
Be light
in
this block;
this can’t
get
past
my own damn self
with
words
stuck in my throat,
piled high
like
some pie in the sky
waiting
4
pigs to fly--
turn
these insurmountable
words
into
inscriptions of this life
unlived
as I sit here,
blank verse,
in
some kind of
Shut Up & Write.