when you're trying to train yourself to write more often and do manage to write but not so well.

you know, I used to sit awake at three a.m. with mouthfulls of poems that I didn't write down. then you wake up terribly old. anyway...

The Face of the Scepter - How Things are Made

I will not regard you, giant, as
A giant. I do not give, and
Will not give you the rivers that
Whisper across our land. My
Tribe is small, but my
Brothers have married well.
You will find nothing here.
Go while my mind is soft.
If you stay a thousand blades are
In the wheat. They will
Meet you. There is nothing here for you.

When you have left, I will send my
Sisters back into the fields, and
My uncles will join me
Under this roof. We will call
You a man of judgement. You
Will have my consent. I will have
Your olives at
The end of the season.

later

ds