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Today’s meditation is, if you break a finger or two on your writing hand, just how will you get your writing done? With the hand that is free, you could peck out the sentences. Also you could record your voice and later have it transcribed, but it isn’t really as close to the natural process. You have to do whatever you can, though, to get your thoughts out.

today, my knuckles banged up
in the door frames and
exposed the best parts of
themselves to the world.
can you help this one
along
carrying books

I don’t have a problem
staring at the ground
close the door and let
me do my work.
mistaken.
the sting of things
the painful ache
and this morning
the sun showering in
through the blinds
Rudra the happiest I’ve
seen him in a long time
laying there in bed
looking at him
I recognized this was
one of the highlights of my life

if you can write with the other hand
insist to get the work done
it will be a tribute to the other
down on your last dollar
who will have the honor?
oatmeal. yes, oatmeal for a week.
until the check comes

Why write all this poetry? What do you mean, poetry? These questions, these vague columns, these attempts. I don’t know; I go and write both. I want it to be all the same to me. If I type fast like I read fast then something may come up of value. I guess I was just thinking about that also, sincerity. None of it, what I say, the so called deepness coming out of the pen, should be pretend. Uplift yourself. And that means tearing the hinges off. Throw the hinges down the stair well. Last sip. Will I be included just the same if they find out I have been drinking orange juice the entire time? How can a man get drunk of orange juice? Can’t you tell, can’t you see, sometimes I am actually happy? Of course I don’t understand you, how you do it, get smashed after work, or before your big trip. Can’t put a thing like that to words. Don’t want to. Clone a man like this and you’ve got willing troops ready to lose it all.