June 4, 2019Writing
You have to wait until it
hurts, until it clangs in
your ears like the bells
of hell, until nothing
else counts but it, until
it is everything,
until you can’t do any-
thing else
but.
then sit down and write
or stand up and
write
but write
on into it
no matter what
the other people are
doing,
no matter what
they will do to
you
crash the lines down,
a party of one,
what a party,
swarmed by the
light,
the time of the
time,
out of the tips of
your
fingers.
from Issue #4 - Fall 1995