A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Saturday, March 30, 2019

editing autosoliloquy

that comma's a blemish
it isn't there, and should
be. I hate

missing things. Although I
rue all the more superfluity,
apart from the word being
so neat. Clutter

isn't the problem, it's
a trip hazard, an interruption
to a flow supereffortless, or

one would like it to be. But there need
to be rocks in the stream. Perfectionists
know what I'm talking about. Ask

one. They will tell you
I have the wrong idea about
perfectionism, and I do. They have known
perfect things, made none, but
it's a matter of time only
'til they chuck it in. So wrong,
my idea. I apply it to them, too

which is just unjust. I should know
better, but then - and only then -

I would be perfect.

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