Arid, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Arid, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

The crouched linebacker
Waiting for the snap of the ball
The hike that never comes

The Olympic runner crouched
Leaning forward, fingertips poised
On the track, waiting for the starting gun

That never pops. Red and white
Fishing floats, bobbing, waiting
For a bated hook, that never catches

Any fish. A-S-D-F skipping G and H
J-K-L, colon/semi-colon, hovering
Fingers dangling over, waiting

For words, in the desert, that
Die from the dehydration of lack
Of motivation, inspiration, exasperation

Cultivation of nothing, waiting, starving
For a road to be paved, asphalt laid out
A runway, a tarmac, for you to embark

The construction workers on strike
The players union on strike
The fisherman on strike, airlines too

And these keys my fingers won’t strike
Is my ink well dry for good?

It is a fear worse than acrophobia
An introvert’s agoraphobia
Coulrophobia

Arid rigor mortis my prose have found.
Toe tags, on the morgue slab surround.
(end)

Another poem about writer’s block.