Here’s a poem for when you’re in the zone


Just one line to write
And then I’m done
I’ll call it a night
But that’s no fun

There’s more to say
There’s more to type
It’s close to day
But my mind is ripe

Its obsession I’m sure
I know that’s true
But it sounds so pure
And looks so new

It’s all laid out
up in my head
Like a preplanned route
My hand is lead

To write at will
Without much thought
A little thrill
That must be sought

New ways to say
Just what I think
A small price to pay
For priceless ink

I type the close
And hope to send
A figment rose
With a lovely end

I’ve emptied my head
With much cascade
And when all is said
Fine art is made

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