An update to make sure it's working. Here's a poem.
Water dull in the bottle, stolid
Ocean turquoise leaping, swirling
Lines ruled and squared
Me: not quite straight
A bar blares "Play that Funky Music (White Boy)"
Gen X'ers meet and greet over white and rosé
I eat crunchy fish and golden chips
With my hands and write
This is not a place to wait
And write and sit and wait
And write or wait
For the right words to sit with me
Adroitly though I hold the pen
The words shift uneasily on the loose sand
Once I again I am at the beach
I am building sandcastles of words
Poems on the surf line.
Waves calmly brush down the turrent,
remove the foundations, return it to the swirl
Successors wash out the catchy phrases sticking to the underside of my mind and
There is smooth unbroken beach
I do not build again