When the only word you’ve written is “fuck”/16 times in a row/then you know you’re in it/a mental dead zone/not writer’s block/but all of your thoughts bottlenecked/fighting to get through/gouging eyes/clawing limbs/a deafening cacophony of thoughts/misery biting the ankles of happiness/lust punching insomnia in the teeth/10,000 thoughts with metaphors held up like limo pick-up signs at the airport/who to pick among the riot/this tide of yins and yangs?
The most profound?
The one that leads to the best poems?
Close you eyes and point/hear a scream of victory out of the mouth of a youth in the back of the room.
Read the name tag:
“Adolescent/Middle school sports failures”
Then write “fuck” another 16 times in a row.