I’m not sure why
but there’s always a fairy
or strange poem, larger than a page
smiling at me from nowhere or from a dream.
Fidel Guerra. June 4, 2022.
but there’s always a fairy
or strange poem, larger than a page
smiling at me from nowhere or from a dream.
Who knows why
but the poems I had previously
stored in my brain become more visible to me
as I walk away toward the refrigerator, for a beer.
At times I write too much, other times I drink too little,
about half a page and half a beer seem to be sufficient for a day.
but the poems I had previously
stored in my brain become more visible to me
as I walk away toward the refrigerator, for a beer.
At times I write too much, other times I drink too little,
about half a page and half a beer seem to be sufficient for a day.
You may know why I’m writing but I don’t.
I ought to halt since since too much poetry
gives me a headache, makes a lovely total
mess out of me cause of you, as you'll see.
I ought to halt since since too much poetry
gives me a headache, makes a lovely total
mess out of me cause of you, as you'll see.
Fidel Guerra. June 4, 2022.
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