The Trouble With Fiction


In my glitter book
I write stories.

Adverb symphonies,
I explain preciously.

Expediently
is always precocious.

The problem with plot
is a lack of self-awareness.

Leaving my pen to face
her fears on the precipice
of the table,

I see the morning’s
crumbs
rearrange—
spell,
but why should I care?

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