as way to get the failures to keep trying.
But this third attempt at poetry today
is blatantly horrendous, and I'm not lying.
Call it writer's block or unoriginality,
call it dried up pool of ideas, letters, words
or tedious adventure in banality.
Further tries would be, I think, absurd.
There are other things around here I must do
and so I bid you, and you, and you: Adieu.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
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