Either through the pressure of wood on wood on the compilation of fonts flowing down the screen, a poem a day.

By the discipline and strength of knowledge, a poem a day.

With the help of nature and the details of industry or the hope of a child, a poem a day.

Because that is how you are supposed to live, a poem a day.

Where you can hone your rage, harness the fears, blow out perception, a poem a day.

Realizing that every minute of most hours throb with the potential of wonderment, a poem a day.

By coming to terms with the conscious and saddened by what’s wrong, a poem a day.

Turning pages yellowed and fragile, burying your nose in the spine of the work, a poem a day.

To change the path and alter the steps of the morning, a poem a day.

Because it is owed to the soul, the mind, and heart, a poem a day.

Like a shot in the vein, liquor in the belly, or smoke in the air, a poem a day.

Scribbled on napkins, painted on walls, or typed by madmen, a poem a day.

Through the air and the sun we breathe, the animals and vegetables we eat and the grass and dirt we stand, a poem a day.

Behind the walls we build, under the bridges of a lifetime, and the ceilings and roofs of protection, a poem a day.

Inside the eyes, between the ears, and on top of the spine, a poem a day.



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