forget your writing class, get on your writing ass

“I go type now,”
I say.

“I study Spanish now,”
she says.

“I put hot water in foot
bath before I type,”
I say.

“put in foot powder,”
she says.

“I won $252 at the track
today,” I say.

I walk up the stairway,
fill footbath with hot
place under desk,
sit down naked
and type you

ought to try typing
with your feet in
whirling hot water
while drinking wine
and listening
to your radio.

what you’re doing
isn’t working
very well.

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