Fried Red Synapses
I have poems everywhere
they’re coming out my ears
I have poems everywhere
they’re driving me to tears
The verse perverse has synthesized
I’m frothing at my mouth
The verse perverse has synthesized
they’re flying round my house.
I have poems everywhere
They’re frying my synapses
I have poems everywhere
No wonder I cannot nap!
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
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