Fuel Coffee Shop, July 18, 2015
She was writing furiously. I kept looking over, thinking she must be a lefty (I was wrong). She’s a recent graduate – a major in creative writing – now a freelance writer for the Berkshire Edge. This poem inspires me. I’m going to try to write without purpose today.
Still
life images
stationed around the squares of
coffee tables
the curves of their stems
tilting beneath us.
I
write
with great faith and
without purpose
because it is the only
thing (this scribing slaving
word bringing exercise, jogging
with fists, pen-hugging
fingers)
I have found that snaps
life into focus
rubber band against writs
and suddenly
I am awakened
to the sounds and smells and
livingness
of the bodies around me
stationed at their coffee tables
all poised with great faith and
without purpose
wanting to find
reasons’s moment.