Why I choose to tangle with the written word,
I'll never know.
Its sticky web entraps me so.
Just as I inhale,
all the clever and apt words,
line up,
letter
by
letter,
and march right
out of my brain
through some secret portal
probably located just behind my ear.
Waiting in the wings
are the replacement words:
the evil twins.
Have you met it's and know and there?
I have.
And even so,
every time
their ticklish ways lure me in.
2 comments:
that's the beauty of the language, isn't it? just when you think you have a handle on it, it shifts out from underneath you.
one man's beauty is another man's beast ...
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