Because it is a start, the start is always difficult
write slanted letters in one name clusters
squeak with the edge of a pencil over the wooden desk
once you start things will flow naturally to the rhythm of words
considered, to the lactation of thought and fluids leaking
from folds, unrelated to your body this time
write happy, write sad, write drunk
who focuses on the amount of time you take
to let be, your most self every single day
observe there are enough things to consider changing
first lines, last lines, titles- why is it
so difficult to categorize the start
grabbing, gripping, containing
it is horrendous to title my lines
I leave the reader to take his pleasure, then.
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