Years ago, I attempted a writing circle, where 3 of us would meet once a week at the Barnes & Noble in Metairie and go over what progress we'd made with our writing. I gave it up after I realized that the other two were still in college and were not much help to me.

Always after Barnes and Noble

I never told Chris that I thought I was good
at writing, but I said sex,
I was good at sex.
I try not to say anything about writing around him
since he's the next Bukowski
has had FAMOUS WRITER tattooed on his chest
so I won't have to explain myself
and why I hate that he's right a lot

So we talk about sex.
I rub his stubbly head and think
how ugly his legs are
and it helps me get through

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