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