The Wall
I hit the wall—you know how often poets hit the wall?
Next time I tried the door—it opened—wide and scary—
I found the courage—a room to enter—maybe a bedeviled trap—
Consult your fave—your video game that seems constructed of sagacity—
Seems—seams—see-ums—no-see-ums but they bite—
I drink—I have been married—roles shifting as said Aristotle—people
Searching—outstepping—wives and hubbys giving taking making breaking—
Myself—my sorry self—giving all that could be given out of me—is it so?—
Breaks the wall!—which falls upon my head—
Do I care?—do I think?—do I know?—
How thick the brick that encases the essence of my soul?—
Made of flint?—made of jelly?—razzleberry in my tease—
Today it is tequila to complement my enchiladas—signature homemade—
Tomorrow from the Isle of Islay—smoky—robust—not answering—alas—
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