(with no apologies to Wallace Stevens, who hurt my brain on several occasions)
I
Among twenty writing projects,
The only one growing longer
Was the post on the blog.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a writer
Attempting to maintain three blogs.
III
The blog slipped onto the internet.
It was not even a drop in the bucket.
IV
A woman and a computer
Are one.
A woman and a computer and a blog
Are one.
V
I do not know which to postpone,
The agony of writing
Or the agony of revision,
The blog post
Or the response.
VI
Letters filled the long keyboard
On little keys.
The hands of the writer
Crossed it, to and fro.
Her mood
Traced in the pixels
An incomprehensible ranting.
VII
O internet reader,
Why do you imagine golden words?
Do you not see how the blog
Hovers on the screen
Of the computer before you?
VIII
I know noble poems
And lucid, intricate prose;
But I know, too,
That the blog is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the blog became a post,
It marked the beginning
Of one of many mistakes.
X
In the light of words
Littering our history,
The mere blogs of you and me
Would sound like harping.
XI
She wrote all the world
Onto a blank screen.
Once a fear pierced her,
In that she mistook
The chapters of her novel
For blog posts.
XII
The writer is writing.
The blog must be growing.
XIII
It was writer’s block all afternoon.
The file was blank
And it was going to be blank.
The blog sat
On the computer-screen.
Brenna Layne 
The Beatles have read your attempt to apply blackbird analogies to your writing. They humbly ask that you, also, apply this objective correlative to your work."Blackbird"Lennon/McCartneyBlackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these broken wings and learn to flyAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to ariseBlack bird singing in the dead of nightTake these sunken eyes and learn to seeall your lifeyou were only waiting for this moment to be freeBlackbird fly, Blackbird flyInto the light of the dark black night.Blackbird fly, Blackbird flyInto the light of the dark black night.Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these broken wings and learn to flyAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise,You were only waiting for this moment to arise,You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Thanks, Beatles, blackbirds, and Greg! I've definitely got a "Blogger blogging in the dead of night" thing going on here tonight…