Some days,
I want grandiose verbage
As refined and well-strung
As a pearl necklace.

I want to take
My adverbs and verbs,
My adjectives and nouns
And paint bold, brash
Streaks across a tattered wall.

Still others,
I want to mix my metaphors
In mud and rip my paper
And smash my syntax
To smithereens.

And occasionally,
I want nothing
But a crisp, white sheet
Staring and waiting.


On a completely different note, yesterday I took Zooey for a walk on what must have been the muggiest day ever. I was soaked with sweat when we got home. Yes, you wanted to know that. In fact, if that doesn't gross you out, try this: While we were out, Zooey pooped, as she is prone to do, and when I was bagging the stuff, I got some on my hand. It was less than awesome.

Why am I sharing that on the internet? Because I can't share poetry and not follow it with something trivial, lest anyone begin to think I'm ever deep!


  1. Ahhhhh, but you ARE deep anyway.

    I loved this poem, as one who appreciates and is often terrified of the blank white sheet of paper.

  2. Did you write that?? It's brilliant! Please write more & share it!

  3. That happens while changing diapers too--the poop thing. Grody.