195/365

finding your voice is pretty.
fucking hard work.
    (don’t swear on the internet.
    it’s not professional.
    my wife’s voice?
    i hear clearly in my head.)

you can half start a novel
or a memoir. tend a blog
nobody reads for more than a decade.
rack up one hundred thousands tweets,
sing loudly in a band,
and quietly to yourself.

what are you even supposed to sound like?
smart. charming. funny. edgy. wise.
intellectual. crass. gonzo. honest.

reading a friend’s book
and i want to sound like him.
listening to that album
and i want to sound like them.

maybe we can’t recognise
our own voice
outside of the head.

capriciously
stringing words together,
trying recklessly to stitch
some kind of redemption.  
never use adverbs,
is one of the only things
i remember from college.
they’re lazy.

dude, you have no idea.
finding your voice is pretty.
fucking hard work.