“All you have to do,”
He tells me,
“Is sit at the typewriter
And bleed.”
Geraldine’s story
Is gushing out of me
If I could stop it, I would-
It’s all pain and misery
I am a poet! I am. I am. I am a poet, I reaffirmed, ashamed.
"I could not help thinking of the wonders of the brain that hears the music & of our skill sometimes to record it."