Poetry

My feelings as I try to create.

I read the poetry of others
and I feel inadequate, always.
It's like spilling flour for them,
a little flip of the wrist
and it's fucking everywhere.
For me, it's more like
pouring syrup that
really tastes like shit.
But no one tells me that.
They coo and use kid gloves
Everyone
except for my wife.
She truly loves me.
She crinkles her nose and
tells me straight.
"This is shit"
Goddamn,
I love that woman.