Billy Collins and the Balancing Act
I sit at my desk, trying to write.
My feet on the desk,
I lean back in my chair,
Trying to balance my coffee mug on a belly wave.
Too timid to remove my hand from the mug,
Wondering how I could explain to the world the coffee stains
on my middle.
And there on my computer screen is a photo of Billy Collins.
He’s smiling, perhaps a hint of smirk in that smile of his.
Billy knows about my cowardice.
That bald-headed bastard, that charming smarty pants.