A Omne and Scrappy Find

Perusing some recently mindless & unlabeled shelfed works (my recently ancient poems), benumbed fingers pluck jumbled words; musings that had much meaning once but now seem more like the random scattering of monkey turds. A thousand keyboards are buried in my brains landfill, and here come the plucky and ribald seagulls to peck at the words still wriggling through unplugged motherboards. Still and all, there may be a line or two that have escaped the ravishes of times disinterest and ennui, there may be a poem here - somewhere, its small, quivering spirit still hopefully squeaking: "pick me, pick me!"