This is not the poem I meant to write.
You are not the subject I meant to speak of today.
Today is not the day I meant to write.
Writing is not the way I meant to spend my time
at this particular point at all.

Intentions have not been met
in any way of late
but intentions and art
are not always
the closest of associates
so maybe it’s for the best
and maybe this
will end up better
than what I meant to be doing
which is better off not mentioning
if you know what I mean.

The manicured paths
of my planned corn mazes
are pointless in the face of destiny
and destiny desires another declaration
instead.
Maybe someday
I’ll get to what I hoped to say
but today
all I have is this.