The Verse Is Mightier Than the Whole

the pen, soulless, stilled with chewed cap, and emptied cartridge, as my yen burns like an addict's fire, palm sweat on parchment, syllables, prosody, sans serif mind flow, while demure muses whisper soft moisture, follicle and promise, into my thought train, running like a hangnail, raking blank canvas, flecked in textured ink and immovable type, scrivened on envelopes, spilt on torn napkins, blown out on e-pages, squirt into ether, no action, no traction, cry out for electronic reaction, the verse is mightier than the whole...