First Draft



A piece of whimsy from my collection, GLEN OAKS AND OTHER RUMINATIONS

This poem sucks.

I tell myself

that it is only

a rough draft.

This poem sucks.

I discard

and try again;

but half-way through

I discard again,

and try once more.

This poem sucks.

I’ve heard it said

that the first

eight drafts,

of any

piece of writing,

all suck.

So I try again

and again

and again.

This poem sucks.


refusing to give up,

I put it aside,

thinking maybe

if I let it percolate

I can salvage

something of it.

But, for now,

this poem sucks.

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