(Poetic Asides: Write a poem entitled Looking for _______)
Looking for the 25th hour
I dislodge myself from the world
of my 12-year-old, overstressed ballerina
and my/her need to craft some sort
of novel draft that makes enough sense
to read a scene from by November 30th.
Leave her and all her adolescent angst
in the world of fiction for the moment,
as I visit the world of verse
seeking to create two non-masterpieces
that will do nothing more than keep me in the games
I’ve elected to play.
After that there’s an article to write
about an awesome event that took
two hours out of my overbooked, overburdened afternoon.
I should blog, too.
People on Blogit worry if I don’t check in.
Called the police once,
much to my embarrassment.
The problem was a misfiring internet connection,
not, as they feared,
some assistant gone psycho.
It’ll be after midnight
when I get back to my story
where my heart truly wants to be.
Unless I find the 25th hour.
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