It Was A Day In Which I Could Not Write A Masterpiece Poem by Shalom Freedman

I could not even correct a masterpiece which already had largely been written
A day in which I could not bear to sit inside at my desk and do nothing
I had to be outside in the sun moving
Only that would distance the anxiety
If anything would-

Life does not go according to schedule
Even for masterpiece writers-

I write these lines on a bus going downtown
To hopefully have the broken arm of my glasses
Soldered on
Perhaps that will be the miracle I need on the last day of Hanukah

And I will return home
To correct this small confessional poem
Another masterpiece, of course.