Poetry: Route 66

  my marrow is filching sulking towards the exit waiting to get out. it cannot be contained. a hazard that refuses to drain out. the color of blackness and a fervor of grey. neither can find their way.   Originally postedĀ hereĀ on my AllPoetry.com account

Write Now (3?)

I’m having trouble writing again. I’ve been wasting time (in my view) by playing video games. I haven’t been productive. I don’t feel blocked per se. I can still write, but it’s mostly freewriting. I still have ideas, but no concrete movement you know? I haven’t an utter clue what’s wrong. My inclination is to […]