Mundane is...

She wants
to write something fine,
something that pushes,
that forces us to utter
small sounds that catch
in the back of the throat.

She chooses to be
free of the mundane,
the routine,
the commonplace,
and those
workaday words,
that creep,
and sneak
into otherwise beautiful lines;

those words that press stanzas
to the page,
where they squat mute,
literary paperweights.

What is it she is not seeing?

A special type of intellectual
osmosis could be the cause,
indolence too,
most likely a simple
lack of awareness,
because the unremarkable
is powerful,
super charged with usage.

What she so disdains
flourishes, in that
the mundane is extraordinary.