So I managed to write some lighter/weirder stuff today. This is one of them. I followed the Poetic Asides prompt, since the one at NaPoWriMo wasn't really up my alley...at least, my brain wasn't feeling it today.
Impossible things to avoid in April
Staying up late, far too late. The act of attempting to write something profound that comes out sounding fucking trite and poorly formed. The quiet sighs from your other half as she tries to snuggle you while you type. The infuriating weather that jumps from calm and warm one minute, to chilly and breezy the next. The uncomfortable metal chairs outside that passing birds crap on. The neighbor's weed whacker. That fucking noisy weed whacker. Those directionless bumblebees that zip around my head. Find a flower to fuck already. The nagging feeling that you're the only one taking the whole poem-a-day thing seriously.