I am a writer, and my currency is words.

Some authors carry wallets, dictionaries, thesauruses

readily at hand.

I keep my words like loose change,

jumbled in my pocket.

My vocabulary pocket, I am loathe to say,

does not do its job.

A phrase gets caught on something else,

stray syllables lost in deep corners.

My mental fingers are not nimble

enough to wedge them free.

Speaking is a nightmare,

grabbing verbs instead of nouns,

fumbling with my payment

to purchase social           .

Oh no.

It seems my pocket     a hole.

That         thing always      me down!

I’m so sorry       like this.

me      some patches

Before                  out.

almost

!

oops.