It is my firm belief that when we sit
We wilt into routine, not excellence
So when I’m writing, reading, needing wit
I tend to not want to sit at my desk
Instead I find I’m looking straight at it
A dumping ground, a veritable mess
But incomplete – I am not finished yet
With my beautiful and ordered litter.
My makeup you can have, but not my books
Writing’s too personal to give a look.