A Poem Wrote On the Back of a Mind

There must be a wall there, electric eels scribble upon it, and rabid are the holes that go deep into words. Those words wrote themselves, they must have climbed over the wall leaving off-white snail smears travelling at light speed. I am done speaking of it, of this writing that demands to be dug into silence, at least until and when that next inexplicable moment learns to speak for itself.