At day’s end I have a great big bowl of thoughts,
whatever keys and gum and paper I collect
and once I’ve sorted them out and put them
back where they belong there is a poem,
an empty bowl, and many drawers
full of life in progress.
At day’s end I have a great big bowl of thoughts,
whatever keys and gum and paper I collect
and once I’ve sorted them out and put them
back where they belong there is a poem,
an empty bowl, and many drawers
full of life in progress.
Are you gonnago through the bowl once this year is finished? I imagine it’s meditative
I have to empty the bowl every day or I get problems with anxiety. I don’t always write a poem at the end of it, but yeah, if I wanna write a poem this has to happen first.