It takes two good cigarettes to write a poem.
Three means it's taken too long; the creative burst is gone.
Scrap it.
One means it hasn't been long enough; there's not enough substance in the words that have been penned.
Scrap it.
Two is just right. Enough time to fully create. Not long enough to fill in loose ends with valueless dribble.
Sometimes, though, on a crisp Summer night, when the stars shine in just such a way,
It takes four good cigarettes to write a poem.
And in that case,
All bets are off.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
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