stage: left

we outta here with our pens and our plans 
and our cramped-up hands and our scrib
-bled dreams. these syllables are our last 
gasps and death-rattle rasps of lyric, lung 
and ripped-at-stanza seams. this means 

our scribbles are all scrabbled out, and 
there’s no doubt we’re through (and through) 
too tired for poem schemes. these prompts 
and circumstances, these crazy iambic dances 
and last-ditch stitches and stashes of phrase. 

for days and days and days (and daze), we’ve 
inked. we’ve thinked. we’ve blinked and blinded
ourselves and binded our shelves with craft and craze.
we’re done. it’s been fun. it’s been real and we’re real 
tired. expired, without a doubt. retired poets, out. 


written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge.
congrats to all who completed this always-crazy month in this weird pandemic year.

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1 Response to stage: left

  1. lifelessons says:

    Hah. Love it. Been there done that, but I bet you don’t quit!!

Use your words.

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