Some Not-Poetry


Lying on the floor, preparing to push out another 500 words before I let my manuscript rest for the day, in my underwear

In the path of a very pleasant ocean breeze, and music playing

Listening to Liam draw and whistle at the workbench beside me…


I myself am tucked neatly under my writing desk, laptop propped against the foot rest,

Watching my toes dance, reflected in the screen while my face remains dark.

I harvested another tomato today. Would have been two, but the caterpillars beat me to one.


Ah well. Small victories. This is a good day.


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