Writer’s Block (Viewed from Page and Foot)
A blank page is not like a plain white sock.
It won’t warm cold feet in the night
and fits poorly into your shoe. You can’t tuck
your pants into its margins to fight
Lyme’s Disease–no, no, it won’t allow ease
of any kind–won’t cushion the impact
of the concrete; won’t offer you release
from a sweaty stance–so much less tact
has the blank page than the ribbed cotton sock
(though also white and sometimes subtly lined)
that it will talk at you (snarkily), mock,
allow no wiggle room, quite shush and bind
you, reciprocally capping all sound.
You resist? Then it will stare you down.
The above is a re-draft of an old poem, posted for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link night. (And, yes, to followers of this blog–I seem to have an obsession with socks.)
I went with this particular poem because I am desperately trying to rewrite and revise a fantasy novel right now. (The idea that I will finish the revision is its own form of fantasy!) In the meantime, if you are at all interested in silly novels written by Manicddaily, check out NOSE DIVE, a cheap, light, fun, escapist read.