Self-Portrait By Numbers

The graphical format of this poem has been lost due to formatting limitations

1. My stomach, furnace stoked
with the first sips of coal
black Mocha Java.

2. My pillows a flying buttress,
I do both Wordle
and NYT crossword.

3. Fully awake,
I text running buds,
set up the daily jog.

4. Shorts,
Asics runners,
tank top tee

5. Scott orates history
and upcoming travel,
Doug, law and the farm.

6. Six miles,
skin sags, heart races,
85F.

7. The small belly roll
must go, avoiding
medication.

8. Lunch is keto, rolled turkey
breast dipped
in Dijon.

9. The sorority runners were
out today, smiles tell me
I’m on track.

10. Sixteen ounces of iced black
Tanzanian Peaberry fuels my
pulse, 2:30pm.

11. Writing
actually comes
before the jog.