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,