Member-only story
Writer’s Plague
on the achy joints of writing
Take a break today.
You don’t have to write anything,
or share anything. Not today.
Be lazy. Do those things you used to.
You know, before you dreamt yourself
a writer, and don’t go getting cocky
about that title, I can
strip it
from you
at a moment’s notice. This is when
my empty mug glares
at me and says
what did you do
with the last hour and was
any coffee ever really in here?
Do you have evidence
other than soggy, grounded joy
of warm remains in the filter
and a telltale residue ring at the bottom
of the pot? I remain unconvinced.
Don’t write today. No reason.
A gentle, non-sequitur knock
on my breastplate threatens
mutiny by exposing my lie.
If I don’t write
today, this day
the beetles will crawl
back out of my ear.
