oh
shouldn’t i be able
to write poems
about nature and how
the sky is the sky
but also not the sky
for it is all all
waters anyways
watching how it mists
a face in a way
i am able
the unnatural truth is
all my poems
are other poems
about what
i do no tknow how to write
on yet
and what i should’ve done
instead of all this
damned writing
besides, of course,
watering it down further
with a drowning
oh
Mizpellt wurdz
Only as good as my word, and I often have pretty bad – or should I say poor – word choice.
ho-pe
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