when i write apoem
it always goes on paper first
throw the thoughts
the feelin's
the dealin's
at the paper

try ta' rhyme
try ta' time
try ta' make a verse

cheap old 3-ring binders
that's where you'll find her

my first thoughts
the feelin's i wrought
the meanings i sought
to say
before i tried
ta' refind her
refine her
she was just a verse

a curse
there in my head
waitin'
lyin' dead

there's lots of scratch out's
& mispells
& words i never could tell
just right
'cause
that's always
the first write

think i blink
then i think
& then i type 'em in
to the 'putor
let spell check begin

but,
as i look back
at what i writ
the first write
yeah
that was it

the one i wrote
my first take note
in those
old 3-ring books
those are the looks
that see me
the way i be
the way i was
'cause
those words
fit me
to a "T"