It’s like scooping
oil from water hoping
to save the birds
Things I meant to write, remnants of dreams,
notes in my wallet, first lines that actually
made it followed by multiple cross-outs,
new starts on new pages, the opening
now gone as well, all of it collapsing
in thudding rhyme echoing
something I wrote a year ago.
Scratch, delete, rip,
crumple, toss, light
the damn basket on fire!