Toothpaste
Sometimes the words come easy
with an instant consent
arranging themselves neatly
that sweet spot in my mind
of no resistance
not nauseas yet
Sometimes the words
are not so agreeable
intent on staying unspeakable
spurting and in a nonsensical surge
But i cannot polish dirt
into crystal
The result:
forced rhymes
syllables in broken time
But the worst
are the words which crawl
when my mind has set to stall
And all i have to show for it:
excessive words that won't fit
Thoughts i can't contain
yet can't explain
Repeating the same thing
(but with different words)
over and over again
Maybe i've been mistaken, then
I'm idle in the brain
and full of empty
Crumpled up poetry
strewn about me like confetti
And at the end of it all
feeling too much exposure
My mind, a tube of toothpaste
folded six times over
Now i'm choking and holding my waist
from the nightly nausea
and chain-smoking aftertaste
Rushing to lock the door,
and head for the store
to buy me some more
goddamn
toothpaste
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