Fuck the Dishes

This is not the poem of the week

I am sorry that I do not have a new poem to share with you this week, but I hope that you will understand my delay. In the past seven days I have finished the rough draft of a new novel and have embarked on the epic adventure of writing my first epic poem, and holy shit, it’s 50+ handwritten pages long and growing, and is by far the best thing I have ever written in my life. I can not wait to show it to you someday.

Over the last week I have opted nearly every day to let my dishes pile up in the sink, and I’ve committed that if they go bad, then fuck it, the writing is more important to me than having a clean plate to eat off of. So far so good. I’m a good rinse and stacker and if I finish this poem soon I might not have to raid the local Dollar and a Quarter Tree for new plates and silverware, again. It has happened before.

a madman works here. but still no free peeks at the novel that was up on my screen at time of photo. this is my artist studio in the Scrapes of Wrath, my travel trailer home

I promise the delay in a weekly poem will be worth the wait.

Love you all

Love,

Dan

If you would like to help keep the factory poet rolling, it is appreciated. Will send chapbooks, letters, postcards and good vibes for donations. Namaste.