Bee Poets

by krstaten

Sometimes I sit down at a laptop, or at a desk with a notebook if I’m feeling classy, and I tell Myself, “Write.”

And sometimes Myself replies, “Go to Hell.”

And that is what Hell is, I think. For me, anyway. Sitting at a desk trying to will myself to put words next to each other while my brain just flops down useless like a cat on a leash.

And when that happens, out of frustration things like this tend to also happen.

I suck at poetry
I suck as much as bees
bees can not write words
they’re smaller than cheese curds
besides they don’t have thumbs
and there are stingers on their bums
and still I bet a bee
writes better poems than me

In conclusion: Sometimes my writing process doesn’t make sense.

I think it’s an important lesson, though, to learn to write to your lowest standard. It’s okay to write something that’s not a masterpiece, or that doesn’t have seven layers of meaning for your readers to pick apart. And lastly, sometimes I forget that it’s okay to just have fun, too.

You’re welcome.

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