the bad writer

the bad writer

A Poem by odhiambo

The bad writer

 

 

I was laying on the carpet my ashtray overflowing and an episode of oz on hold.

A picture of Paul was staring at me from the wall,

 Reminding me that I was on lock down.

I was dying to write.

The dirty dishes on top of the fridge can tell that ive been more than sluggish.

The house is technically a pig pen.

Candles and glasses from last night still on the floor.

The smell of the warmth still heating the room.

 

Wires of my laptop snaking the carpet like some erotic serphants.

So write I did.

© 2010 odhiambo


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Added on January 26, 2010
Last Updated on January 26, 2010

Author

odhiambo
odhiambo

kampala



About
writing is my life more..

Writing
leaving leaving

A Poem by odhiambo