didn't write for two weeks
for no noticeable reason
except the heater broke

it got cold, quickly
and so instead of writing
i focused on the discomfort at hand

and then there were books, many books
about survival, about a harvard doctor
running a hospital in haiti

so much emotion in those pages
i couldn't stand myself enough
to type this

plus cute girls, the visiting roaches
of my trashy heart, stopped emailing me
despite still feeling cheated

with the cold wind searching for the cracks
i wrote again to feel the warm rush of homely shame
fill my pale over-educated veins