After my finger is tired
and starting to  throb
After my eyes
go blurry like globs

After my lap burns
from the heat
and all the tea I drink
begins to seep

I may consider
just might interrupt
Reading the poems
Ya'll have put up

But for now to the kitchen
to light the kettle  
then to return to the Well
of heartbreak and metal

Sip with the sages
and chat with the bards
Nothing like poetry
to help me live large