Publishing on the fly is like this:
I make premature postings,
find typographical errors,
inappropriate emoji,
or worse, one or two times
I’ve accidentally liked myself.
While attempting a poem with my phone,
mistakes are made
and become immediately public–
my dumb ass
on display for the
whole world, or,
at least, the tiny fraction
of it that’s actually
watching.
I’ll cover myself
with this message to my readers,
good in perpetuity:
If it’s bad, wrong, otherwise dumb,
I didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry.
michael jarmer 