The Writer’s Life

Two hours into the daylight
and I’m still hunting A Beast
Apparently Too Stubborn
To Be Taken.

Considering, therefore,
a return to bed for an hour
or two.  There’s potential refreshment
in that casual, temporary death

that may lead to sharper tools.
Certainly, there’s no point
in watching the news and sipping
mediocre coffee; no inspiration

in there for further effort.  The Beast
thrives on a diet of unconsciousness
and rejection.  If I offer these to him
as bait, he may come shyly forward

and lie down that I may take him
and tame him.  That’s such hard work.
While I may appear slothful
to the uninformed,

It takes such measures
to grind away
a pursuit that kills
as much as it enlivens.

It only looks easy
because all most people see
is the tamed Beast.  Only hunters
understand what it takes to tame him.