A Hesitant Spasm

Why
do I hesitate so

each day each
moment
I have words

just pen them down,
woman -thats what I say
or hear myself say

it isn’t rocket science
no bombs
to difuse;

it’s not like
having sex
for the first time

or turning left
at the busiest
inter(section)

no need for the
hesitation,
the herky, jerky
stop and start

it just feels like
forcing my way through
to the front of a bustling

crowd
each time I
write a new

poem…and

I’ve never been
one for crowds

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