Poetic License: ‘Drought’
PHOTO PROVIDED
Joe Pacheco
For months and months
I have wandered
This limitless desert of block
Not a drop of fresh word falls
On my parched page
Not a metaphor or simile in sight
In my dry delirium
Mirages and images
Tantalize beyond the margins
I pray for a manna of words
To fall and deluge my pages
I suck on old poems to stay alive