The Hamlet Project

Everyday I have this meeting
Pen to paper
On the way to my word, to my words.
Sometimes in talking with people, I cannot find
The right ones. I will slip and say
The wrong cliché. “Hey, what’s up?” will get a “Fine. You?”
I will wrestle with the pause
Decide if I want to speak at all.
So sometimes, this place where I write
Is a castle for words.
The words hang out there, milling around,
Having cocktails until I show up and put them to use.
I go to my word like a lover.
Eager, full, not uncomplicated, but with great anticipation.
Now to my word.