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Terrible with Titles

I’m not very good at writing long, literary worthy blog entries. I buckle under the pressure of maintaining some kind of face so I generally avoid it. However, it’s late and I’ve had my one cup of coffee of the week (stupidly at nine thirty at night) and am feeling open to the challenge.

Just to note – I’ve deleted everything I’ve written so far so that was short-lived motivation.

Here’s an unfinished, ambiguous poem:

I am wholly infatuated with the stench of pine
Content strapped into this traffic jam
There’s a lo fi hum in my left ear – the right
Speaker has beat its last.
My steering wheel has reduced to foam
But I’m still going on four rubber toes, with 
A churning metal heart
As we tred water a man smokes
His wife, presumably chats, taps on a phone
About her sister’s divorce – nonchalant. 
I am wholly infatuated with the stench of pine. 
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2 thoughts on “Terrible with Titles

    1. Thanks! I was in a traffic jam at the time and I just got thinking about how everyone is in the same situation, but everyone is so disjointed from each other – the car is a personal arena.

      Thank you :]

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