Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

The Little Fucks

I sit at my desk and wait for the words,
the elusive creatures that appear for no reason
then vanish just as quickly
as they came.
Where do they go?
The little fucks.
It is a strange story
every writer knows.
One minute you are with God,
suspended.
The next, in a lifeboat
praying.
The sting of ocean on your face.
The nausea rising in your stomach.
The dance of uncertainty
your only companion.
Floating.
Always floating
with no land in sight.
The sun beating you into submission.
Paddles just out of reach,
taunting you like cake.
You lie down,
as if discovering wine
in the bottom of the boat,
and drink.