By: Rowe Lindsay Rowe
When he sees my
horse-of-another-color
poem of tired, worn out phrases,
beating a dead horse,
my professor will be
madder than a wet hen
but I’m not afraid of him:
he’s all bark and no bite.
Good writers refrain from using clichés and
have a way with words;
they can find a way to make their readers
hang on every word;
I just want to be finished, because
all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
even though I have been told that
idle hands are the devil’s workshop.
Thoughts of another – pre-encapsulated
easy as 123
I will finish early and
take the easy way out.
I thought about rewriting this poem completely
starting from scratch
and changing every line, but I didn’t want
to throw the baby out with the bathwater.