salivating at
ropes of seaweed
washed up on the waterfront

that angry fly just
gets angrier, can’t see how
the door just opened

after three years of
practice, I kick into head-
stand, my spine holding

first day of writing
retreat: burn sage, invoke muse
& walk the land

day two of writing
retreat: I sleep & read
& sleep some more

looking before
leaping is not quite the same
as just simply leaping

warming my cabin
metal heat coils rising like
Van Der Rohe’s corn cobs

like a game of
musical chairs, trying to find
the writing sweet spot

starting to consider
caffeine options after over-
sleeping three days straight