Maybe I am going crazy
But these poems are drowning
The top of my head,
Flooding my fingertips every night
When I sit in front of
Ganesha
With my overfilled glass of red
And this dated Mercury –
Whose ribbon I must replace.
The poems flare.
They jump out onto the keys
While I do nothing but
Press down,
My lips curling into
What seems like a smile…
Madness in full throttle.
Alice?
I hear her whisper again.
Open your window…
No.
She is irritating me.
Interruptions.
It took me a long time to find
The most entertaining person to drink with:
Myself.
© Magnified Reflections 2013
all rights reserved