On Writer’s Block

Everyday is not a start,
The soft edge of median,
This is a phrase I don’t so well.

When I have nothing to write of but the word
itself, but speaking itself.
Oh consonant, oh cadence.

We die on the page
between the the the click
After arrows and underlines.

Let my inner critic speak:
“There is no imagery here
your line breaks don’t feel.

“No voice, no rhythm
No image, no image
nothing to say.”

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2 thoughts on “On Writer’s Block

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