Yet Another Draft

Paper scrawled with words

A forest of spiky fonts

Enter with caution

.

Dressed up as soldiers

Fighting for another’s cause

Words march out my mouth

.

On the battlefield

Not a drop of blood was spilt

Couldn’t write today

.

Somebody once wrote:

‘All is fair in love and war’

I add: ‘And writing’

.

Settled down to write

Gaps in door; was disturbed by

Yet another draft

.

.

.

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This entry was published on January 5, 2013 at 6:23 PM. It’s filed under Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

write the fox

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