deepundergroundpoetry.com
writ-hurdle
when there's not a thing new
to nail-tap-type-spittle-spew...
i seem kinda curdled
the writ an unable hurdle...
mind stalled
hands smalled
i feel a kind of stay
within which i've nothing to say...
but...
i'm hard on my way to you
trying vainly
to renew
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