Pen, Paper, and a cup of coffee,
Head throbbing, and a hand scribbling furiously,
Just as the flickering flame of the kerosene lamp
danced away with the easterly breeze.

Crumpled heap and an acid ball;
Glibs and thoughts meleed in my head
Pouring out everything my pen can scream,
All to contain another avalanche
of disjointed verses and noxious madness.

“Ding” goes the clock,
Eyes straining and my head’s an empty sphere,
The portable radio’s playing, and my pen’s  swirling to the beat,
The bed’s just as tempting,
But I can’t bring myself to sleep.