why do words come so quickly amongst
Friday midnight’s half remembered prayers
Saturday morning’s crumpled tissues
and Sunday afternoon’s long walks past blaring speakers and nurtured yards
but when Monday morning comes
the blank page faces me down
and I can only blink back

why do the words scribbled on napkins
finger flown and too autocorrected to be understandable in the notes app on my phone
make more sense
than the ones
I bang out on my keyboard
and edit until I can recite them back to forward

I only find the words I’m looking for among tears
and the scent of barbecue
and so these words mean nothing
and yet they ring true