A row of opposites, some funny, some not,
there for everyone to see, 
but what is the point?
So many messages in so many directions
each of them only deliver
a single gulp of a breath.
A picture, a page, a degree,
a sign, a move, a note,
a memory, a word, a hope,
a gesture, a religion, a job,
a gift, a respite, a retreat,
a history, a game, a chance–
the medium fails to matter
if the artist is never in the room
with the art they envision.
The point is not to look back at the end
and assemble the pieces 
into a whole;
the point instead emerges 
that writing the story is the point,
not relishing your product through productivity.