Micropoetry Monday: The Writer’s Life

Writer's Life

The Shutterfly Edition

He was tuxedo English,
she, T-shirt,
but when he decided to correct her grammar
on Facebook,
she looked him up
& matched his clean words with dirty ones
to coax him out of his clothes,
only to discover that this stuffed shirt
under all that spiffy black-&-white
was a T-shirt that didn’t know
to separate itself from red.

She wrote fiction
when she wanted to forget herself;
creative nonfiction
when she wanted to remember herself;
but when she wanted to just be herself,
she wrote poetry.

As a writer,
she didn’t let people live rent-free in her head,
but instead,
evicted them to the page
& gave them their just desserts,
which were anything but
just or sweet.