For this week’s prompt, write a sudden poem. The poem could be about something that suddenly happens. Or it could be just whatever words suddenly spring from you. Or… I’ll let you decide what a sudden poem means for you.
Here’s my attempt:
He digs his fingers deeper into his forehead
than they’ve ever dug before. He reclines until
he’s facing the ceiling. He stares at the ceiling,
exhales. Then, inhales. The world completely silent
waits. And waits. And waits until the engine ignites
and his fingers type faster and faster as if
the words (given the chance) might try sneaking away.
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