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.
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