A. G. Bawang
Writing Down The Marrows - Poem by A. G. Bawang
It is running with sweat suits,
Albeit barefoot, in a room
Reeking with cheap coffee
And stale take home pizza.
Each daily run
Squeezes and thickens
The sweat into ink
And turns last night’s babblings
Sometimes I say,
“Oh, I ran yesterday.
And I try to resist every step of the long thirteenth line,
But I do it anyway.
In the middle of the run,
While the dogs howl and the rosters crow,
I will retrace my steps
And attempt to tidy.
And just as I am coming to an end
I would wish I could begin
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