VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Tony Brewer

Morning Pages

Every time I type your name

it’s different like forms of snow

that don’t matter while shoveling

I can hear your punctuation

written out how to breathe

where to stop and start

over and over

A million notes without music

typed too fast transposing

letters & saying things wrong

edited later toward strange

meanings nattering at editors

I know who you are

grimmer & darker

negative easy when no one

tells you to frown

Make it til you break it

& burst like a distant star

gassy old brilliant

Walk through every open door

is advice I hear

unaware where I am going to

Who can parse a voice – you?

Every time I spell you out

a thing less useful conjured

slumps bidden to a threshold

while I explain how one

gets better writing

so as not to forget

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