Down to the Last Drop

Alack and alas........

Poor pathetic little bloggie. I can see that I've not really given my blog any attention. That's sad, one could get the impression that I'm not really interested in writing. Granted, I'm not a prolific writer, or prone to journal but, I do have my little spurts and sputters and have even recently written a poem with such title, "sputter" located in the poetry critique secion of Absolute Write.

Blogging seems to be the pulse of the world, one giant ball of syntax synapse. I feel like Pooh's little donkey friend, "Oh, my!"

Where to begin, what virtual thread of the giant ball could one possibly begin to unravel? And, why should one even bother? The immensity is overwhelming.

I'm pondering, it's muckish and I feel as though my fingers have become my feet sloshing through a little puddle of a brain with no great cause. To blog or not to blog has become a question.

Poetry is my vent. All I can do is think to post poetry until something else comes along. Bear with me, if you're even here at all.


?

hung on a question
pretending
to end a thought

i follow the dot
the curve up
to the spot where
surveying
the sequence logic
is not

characters cued
and grammar all skewed
a simple slide down
back to zero ground