My writing life

"Why can't I write?!" I asked the air
When I've finally found a day to spare
Me thinks the house may silence my pen
too much laundry, dust and lack of zen

I packed my bag and sought a chair
at the local Barnes & Noble, where
I thought the words would flow like wine
in the tapas bar on 3rd and Pine

But, hark! I found it worse than home
Distractions lurked like night in Nome
Poetry, classics, mags by the ton
I'd stopped writing before I'd even begun

Then spent the day with nose in book
Browsing covers for a Nook
Reading Oliver's latest poems
And pondering purchasing several tomes

At days end, I'd nothing to show
No letters written in a tiny row
Just a messy house, dishes in the sink
And a caffeine crash (from the latte, I think)

I called the day "a piece of crap"
My writing life is a lot like that.

~ Jenny Scheuch ©