Grass is Green

Sisyphus and Tantalus
are arm-wrestling on
their coffee break. One
has cracked and dusty
fingers hard as rolled stone.
One has algae in his hair
and lips like the Gobi.

Sisyphus is stronger, but
Tantalus talks good fish-
tongued trash. They’ve
got a bet. Each wants
what the other has, but
break time is over.


I haven’t written a poem of even middling quality this month. I haven’t been able to get my head in the right spot. I can’t reach the tipping point that I usually stumble on when free-writing that sparks creativity. Very frustrating.