Simple Agenda

Itches pound against my thigh and thumb But I put on my poet's hat I feel a poem coming frothing forth my gums ache my right bottom eyelid jumps But I have on my poet's hat I see a poem coming my throat throbs my left ear pops But I am wearing my poet's hat I smell the poem coming Nose sniffles and burns cracked chapped lips But I adjust my poet's hat I know a poem is coming But my sleepiness drains my hands my brain is cluttered no thoughts reign I know the muse was on my shoulder but all I do is yawn and shudder I'll take off my poet's hat and get some rest and that was my poem going down.