Some Rocks

Some rocks,
Certain shoals,
Necessary friends,
Needed to crash into.

Oh the poems come fast and furious this
Sabbath morn,
Every phrase a bullet graze,
Or a bullseye in the chest wound.

No matter, let them come,
But know this:

If I hit the rocks,
The boat of inspiration sinks,
I got friends,
Who are ricks too,
Rocks I can count on.

So when my GPS dies
(general poetry senses)
I look for those rocks
To guide me home,
Look for those rocks
To crash into.