Oh to attain the talent to
      write

with neighbor’s bass
      pulsing in
          walls
          veins
          head

and words that wade
      under bubbles of bath
      wishing to rhyme
                    the waves
                    of my
                    electric toothbrush

at cobblestone cafés
      where lovers whisper low
      and quarrel
      kindly cruelly of
                           last night

        or in the car
needs must in the car
No sir, I’m not sure

how fast I
      was going
but can we consider
                    enjambment
(and the laughable number of
      seatbelts for
      all of my exes
                    crammed in the backseat)

psyche neither sporty nor speedy
But monstrous in room
      with elbows wedged in crevices
      and tongues that fit
                                                    in ears
                    sighing
                    perjured promises
                                                        that someone’s really listening

Oh to have the knack to write
      even while I
                                read

and only
                          if only
                          the nose to write

                          well

Rich, L. E. (2005, November 4). Anywhere. Leigh Rich Freelance: five2seven.