going nowhere
5/18/2023
on deadlines & self-criticism
5:00, my phone reads out. another
Saturday. another midnight deadline.
wheels spin. I sit uneasy in my chair
and try to write. my pen's gone dry.
it gouges the paper colorlessly. like
me perhaps. I take a new one from
the shelf. it must be broken. it spews
its ink everywhere. messy black smears.
down. I lay my head down on the desk
and sigh. my critic-self sits on my
shoulder. how will you ever write
a poem worthy of its reading, an
equation worthy of its evaluation,
a treatise worthy of the lives of
the trees that made the paper it
is printed on? stop. stagnate.
my effort's going nowhere. still I
must continue. deadlines are as
deadlines are. for now I strive for
completeness. not perfection.
or inspiration.