TEN A DAY.
ONE HUNDRED.
FASTER.
CLOSER.
MORE.
|–
The pulling at the chain,
Is growing annoying.
Infinite Patience,
Drops to zero with enough ignorance,
Or arrogance.
I must write eight hundred poems.
Faster.
Slower.
Faster.
It will come.
Two steps forwards.
One step back.
Not me –
Freight Train.
