Monday, May 04, 2009

foray back into fiction awakens the fingers to their trade.
producing, producing, cobwebs flicked away with energy gleaned by self-disgust.
pock-marked and scratched, there is the evidence of what an eternity of inertia
a day
has wrought on a body reaching for action
surmounting mediocrity, creeping against the odds that fling you back into obscurity.

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