I take a wrench to each temple
unscrewing bolts used to hold in
the gray and red sediment
pull out a handful, and begin.

Upon the spinning wheel I throw
a formless character yet to be
until I choose which way to go
and become a piece of pottery.

But my mind dances in fragility
so I move my hands deliberately
as to create without any haste
or ruin my clay's graceful shape.

Dissatisfied, I grab a tool and scrape
the useless remains of my broken brain
and throw them back into my skull,
my once sharp mind now completely dull.