My brain sits in the gutter.
Tethered with a lil red string,
To my littlest, smallest finger.
I want to be smart!!
I want to be a genius!!
It’s right there, just take it,
But OH WAIT!!
In the gutter, the sharks lie.
Critics bigger than newspapers,
Text blacker than midnight,
Where my genius flies best.
Wearing wings of paper
And holding a heart of flame
My brain blazes toward home.
Towards me!!
Towards my pen, poised!!
But never reaches in time,
Only enough to reach out,
A gust from brushing together.
An ink drops on the paper,
No meaning to be found.
Anywhere?
Nowhere in my mind, at least.