30 poems in 30 days.
It’s a strange exercise.
In fact, the last poem I wrote was in spanish.
I write every day anyway, but 30 in 30 is a bit different.
It demands a beginning, middle, and end.
The poems are by no means perfect.
But I’m getting them out.
Scribbling on napkins,
writing memos on my phone,
shouting out lines
on my bike ride.
30 in 30 because whatever keeps the ink flowing
is worth a try.
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