Poetry Marathon Hour 18:

Did I really just write hour 18 – without typos? Yes, hell yes I did. Clearly, I’m in pretty good shape – which is awesome! I have loud rhythmic jazz blaring into my ears and I think that is partially to thank for the wonderous energy and awakeness coursing through my veins. I have a poem in mind… maybe kinda sorta, Idk, we’ll see what happens in the next however many minutes til midnight ish


Poem 18:

The pink tinged purple spaceman

swimming in something we define as

the galaxy but still have no idea how to

actually describe – is staring at me from

my monitor – much larger than I am used to

and simulating something lifesize and real


as opposed to the imaginary guide he

usually presents himself as. And now it

is midnightish and I know he wants me

to join him in the void – but I can’t.


Not yet.


-M. Rene’

sincerelybluejay poetry

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