Rhetoric a portfolio

Calliope sits
	with her tablet on her thighs
	she cocks her head
	she hears our cries
	she smiles slyly
	and invites us with her eyes
	to try again

We have our paper and our pen
Our quill and ink and type
We have decided this is when
We will gird our loins and try again
To write

And we will write until we stiffen
We will write until we go blind
We will write until we are nocturnal
We will write until we petrify
We will lose our hope and then
We will try to write again

When we are no longer breathing
When we are six feet beneath
Our fingers, they will twitch
And we will yell our grief
Because we love that cold hard bitch
And even then
We will want a pen

And Calliope sits
	with her tablet on her thighs
	she cocks her head
	she hears our cries
	she smiles slyly
	and invites us with her eyes
	to try again

For Sarah, Feb. 2010