Puzzle

I am not a machine.

I cannot produce perfectly timed, perfectly rhymed poetry at the drop of a hat.
Each piece will not come out with the same quality, the same ferocity.
Each piece these days is nothing but perfunctory.

I am a machine.

I cannot produce beautifully allegorical, beautifully metaphorical poetry at the drop of a hat.
Each piece comes out entirely rigid, entirely scripted.
Every piece that I’ve written is nothing but frigid.

I am not a machine.

I cannot produce each line, each rhyme, perfectly in place each time.

I am a machine.

I cannot produce imperfectly perfect rawness, imperfectly perfect honest poetry each time.

The more I write these daily poems, the more I record these brutish emotions, the more I learn…

The puzzle pieces of my brain do not always fit together in a way that is pleasant to see.