Rough Draft

I wrote this poem a couple of weeks ago, and it is definitely a first draft. Or an only draft. But it’s the most recent poem I’ve written so I thought I would throw it out there to the wolves to see if you like it or hate it.

By the way, if you like this blog, please subscribe to my newsletter The Squeak. I think you like that too.

Fairfield Inn and Suites

A mediocre room is cacophonous
The mini-fridge has a busted, burbling cooling unit and
The springs of the bed next door need oil.
The bathroom light buzzes and
Even the writer’s pen scritch-scritches too loudly on her paper.
Either one’s children are too far away or too close and
The light too bright or too dim.
The bed! Too large, too small, too hard, too soft
Too scratchy but never too supple
And all because the writer is alone.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *