No. 207 - I Can’t Write

I can’t write

I want to

I am building a business that owns me as much as I adore it

I listen to birds in the morning while walking barefoot through yellow grass

I wear jeans and a cowboy hat

I am smoking several cigars a day with impunity

My commute takes me past LBJ’s childhood home in Hill Country

I enjoy tending to my mustache

Every evening I listen to George Strait while the sun sets

My garbage is full of Topo Chico bottles

I watch Texas films at night

                Paris, Texas

                Tender Mercies

                Slacker

I sleep like a log and I don’t have an alarm clock

But I can’t write

The economics in my life are just

                I get to build my dream, but I don’t get to write

*Composed, Edited, and Published at Whatley Wines in Fredericksburg, TX