I lie awake (sweat in my eyes)
waiting for images.
I sit in coffee shops
(though I cannot stomach coffee's bitterness);
at breakfast tables,
thinking between crossword clues.
I search for wisdom, inspiration:
Sandburg, Hughes, Bishop, Pound, Williams
and Whitman! (Oh, leaves of grass I walk upon,
looking under each step!)
Bending the pages of these poems,
I try to absorb their passions,
I write about love,
I have been defacing American poetry.
Spitting in the eyes of greatness
and expecting inspiration!
I have crushed leaves of grass
instead of placing my ear on their tips
and listening to their songs.
It is time to read, write, read, write!
Sitting in my chair,
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