"Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking."

- Jessamyn West:

First line exercise

Jay Santini

Stop thinking me about any of this
Stop thinking me the pinecone sticks
look like male genitalia
Stop thinking the lichen
Stop thinking about the dig of the tree trunk
into your back
about the fly buzzing at your knee
about aboutness
Stop thinking
Stop thinking
Stop thinking me about any of this
Stop thinking the rhythms that lull
you into yourself, into complacency
All details are something
to hang one’s hat on
The ants are gathering, and may march
up your pants
Stop thinking me about any of this
Do not re-think everything you think you know
Doing so is probably probably
Go with the flow
Stop thinking me about any of this
Stop thinking me that is the key
To what? Sap, or something
drips from the tree
And all about the ants
skitter with their exoskeletons
and their heavy loads ― ten times
their body weight
Stop thinking me about any of this. Ant strength and tonsures
outrageous hubris
Yesterday I saw the sun set and did not give a shit
Tomorrow a single dandelion petal will pierce my heart
Right now I have reached the end
Stop thinking me about any of this
Gardeners’ flower gardens are always beautiful
to them
Not so the tornado
There are no weeds
There are no vermin
There are no varmints
We only think so
Stop thinking me about any of this
The gentle heat of the sun on one forearm
The way an ant stumbles over a twig
The background taste of saliva
The smell of decaying
pine trees on the breeze. Details details details
Put me there
Stop thinking me about any of this
God knows all, inside and out
God smells the smells that can’t be smelled
But be very careful, because you don’t know anything
It may be better to stop before you are tempted
to speak of the spider web
strands glinting in the sun