I’m writing the same sentence over and over.

Yet in my mind’s eye I’m shaking spices over salmon.

I’m sitting on a balcony overlooking a river,

Writing new sentences and new words to free the soul
and unshackle my hands.

I was not made for the cubicle.

I was not born for drudgery.

Having reached these conclusions,

I believe it’s time to reach for the spice rack,

And shake.